The Friends You Make Here
by Bymaga Jones
Summary: College AU. – Nick meets Monroe and thinks he's kind of cute. Monroe doesn't want to get attached, but Nick has plans – and helpful friends.
1. Chapter 1

**Pairings:** Eventually Nick/Monroe, a few other assorted, past and present

Notes: I want to thank SquidgiePDX for once again patiently going through this and making it so much better. As always, you are the bestest alpha and beta reader EVER. Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

The title is taken from the adage about how the friends you make at college will be your friends for the rest of your life.

The story is complete, and I'll post a chapter every other day so I have time to review each one more time.

Additional Note at the end of the chapter.

"No, no, no," Nick Burkhardt groaned under his breath as he felt his car's engine catch, then suddenly die. He managed to coast to the side of the road and onto the shoulder before it actually stopped. He sat there for a moment, in his '72 Ford Mustang, thoroughly disgusted with himself. He'd bought the car as a fixer upper and had gotten it to the point where the car was now drivable. He needed to replace the fuel gauge and had a post-it attached to his dashboard where he recorded his mileage; it helped him guesstimate when he needed to fill up the tank. Peering at the small paper using the car's flickering dome light (he made a mental note to add that to his list of things to replace), he realized that he'd forgotten to log at least two trips to campus earlier that week, which would explain why he now found himself stranded on the side of a dirt road, his gas tank completely empty. What made matters worse was that he'd deliberately chosen a side road, away from the interstate to return home from the salvage yard a few hours away. He'd always been drawn to the roads less traveled, he thought, smiling to himself at his nod to a poem he'd been forced to dissect in high school. Maybe Mrs. Kendrick's class'd had more influence with him than he'd thought. His smile faded as he realized that he might be stranded for quite a while. He flicked on his hazards, getting out to make sure that they were actually working, and that's when he heard the rumbling. A flash of light shot across the sky, and he managed to dive back into his car before a sheet of rain hit him.

Nick sighed. Of course it would rain. Knowing his luck, a car might actually drive down the road, but it wouldn't see his car and would hit it, forcing Nick to repair what he'd already fixed.

He pulled out his cell phone, more encouraged by the signal than he probably should've been. But he was ready for some good news, choosing to think of it as a harbinger for his luck finally changing.

After a few rings, the voice mail activated. "Hank here. I'm not available, but leave a message, and maybe I'll get back to you." Nick hung up and looked at the time, realizing that Hank was probably still in class.

He hit number two on his speed dial, getting another voice mail. "Hey, it's Drew. You know what to do." Wu shouted his message over the loud noise in the background, reminding Nick of the night Wu'd joined them at the Rat, his new cell phone clutched in the hand he had raised in victory after scrimping and saving for the newest model. He'd waited to record his outgoing message until after finishing the first congratulatory drink he'd made Nick buy for him.

Nick knew for a fact that Wu didn't have a class, but he was fairly certain Wu was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be, getting into all kinds of trouble.

Sighing, Nick disconnected and tossed his phone into the passenger seat. He had class the next day at 8am; hopefully, he'd get back to his apartment long before then, although he wasn't feeling very hopeful at the moment.

He was so focused on moping that he almost missed the headlights flickering from the road behind him. He automatically reached for the door handle but hesitated, looking down at his black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. At it was, with the darkness and the rain, visibility was poor. The last thing he needed was to get hit trying to flag down some help.

The car wasn't driving very fast, probably a nod to the poor driving conditions, and Nick held his breath, hoping it would stop. It passed by him, then slowed. Nick reached for his door handle but stopped and groaned when it moved forward. Then it stopped.

Nick didn't spare a moment, worried that the driver would change his mind again, and sprinted to the passenger side, knocking on the window. He only took a moment to appreciate the bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle as he smiled hopefully, trying to look as friendly and non-threatening as possible. The smile faltered a bit until Nick heard the distinctive click of the door unlocking, and he slipped in quickly, shutting the door.

"Thanks so much for stopping," he said, turning to the driver as he shoved his wet hair away from his face.

He paused for a minute, taking in the scruffy beard and flannel shirt. The man looked like he'd climbed off a mountain or maybe just felled a forest full of trees. Nick maintained his focus on his rescuer, forcibly stopping himself from taking a look to make sure there wasn't an axe in the backseat.

"What's wrong with your car?" The man asked gruffly, his hands tight on the steering wheel, eyes on the road in front of him.

Nick realized that the scruffy man actually seemed nervous, like he was scared of Nick, which Nick found slightly amusing. "I ran out of gas," he confessed.

The man's eyebrows raised, and he finally looked at Nick. "Seriously?"

"I'm fixing up the car, but I haven't gotten to the fuel gauge yet. I'm normally really good about keeping track, but I, uh, fell a little short this time," he confessed, feeling pretty stupid.

The man just shrugged, though. "It happens, I suppose. Where're you headed?"

"I live on Rampart, just off of – what?" Nick saw the man's expression and looked down at himself, wondering if he'd gotten some sort of unsightly stain on his shirt or something.

"Let me guess. You go to JT."

"Yeah, I'm a junior." Nick took another moment to assess the other man. "Let _me_ guess. You go to GN?"

The man looked down at himself and smiled wryly. "What gave it away?" He eyeballed Nick, and Nick had to fight to keep himself from fidgeting. He liked the warmth he felt as the man inspected him, though. "You're definitely JT."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Is that a bad thing?

The man shrugged a shoulder. "It just is what it is."

The small town of Ellensburg, Virginia, pretty much consisted of two colleges, the people living there either working at or attending one or the other. Gaylord Nelson College, formerly known as Ellensburg College but now just called GN, had been established in the late 1800's. Nick didn't know much else about the school besides the fact that the students seemed to enjoy farming, vegetarian food, tie-dye, and playing hacky sack – and they seemed to have a rivalry against Nick's college, Jonathan Thomas University, which had been established in the 1900's. From what Nick could gather, his school had been the result of a few wealthy families in the surrounding areas worried about the morals from the nearby hippy college. So they'd created their own, using the name of a local magistrate, beginning what could sometimes become an intense rivalry between the two schools.

Nick considered himself the kind of guy who judged each person on his or her personality, not off of what school they attended. He'd actually dated a couple of girls from GN and in fact was still really good friends with one of them, Juliette.

"Are you going to throw me out of your car now that you know I go to JT?"

"What? No!" The man looked horrified.

Nick shrugged. He'd heard of students doing worse to each other all in the name of school loyalty.

"I couldn't help but notice how you didn't particularly want to pick me up in the first place…"

The man looked a little embarrassed. "It is nothing personal. I'm just… not much of a people person."

Nick smiled. "I just appreciate your giving me a lift."

The guy backed up beside Nick's car, and after a quick dash to turn off the headlights and to grab his stuff, Nick clamored back inside the car. He noticed immediately that it felt much warmer, easing the goosebumps he'd gotten from being wet. "Thanks," he said, raising his hands to the warm air emanating from the passenger vent.

The man shrugged and pulled back onto the road.

They sat in silence until Nick realized that he was going to have to start any and all conversation. It didn't really bother him since he'd never been shy, and he found himself wanting know more about this solid mountain man sitting beside him. He had a natural curiosity about people, wanting to know how they came to be the way they were. In fact, he'd initially intended to major in psychology when he started college, but he'd ended up with criminal studies. He still got to investigate the mind but also liked the idea of providing justice for those who couldn't stand up for themselves.

"I'm Nick," he said, turning to face the man.

"Monroe," the man said after a few seconds.

"Thanks again, Monroe," Nick said, happy when a small smile curved on the man's face.

Nick found that he liked the look of Monroe. And he liked the way he smelled, kind of woodsy but still clean. And while he wasn't particularly fond of hairy people – hence his only dating a few GN women – he thought that Monroe's beard suited him. Nick found himself having to make a fist in order to stop himself from reaching out to feel if Monroe's beard were as soft as it looked.

"What's your major?" Nick winced inwardly at the obvious line but found that he really wanted to know. "Have you declared yet?" Monroe looked old enough to be a junior or a senior, but GN was known for accepting non-traditional students. Nick had seen quite a few grey heads the few times he had been over to their campus.

Monroe nodded. "Environmental Studies."

Nick nodded as if he knew what that meant, but after a few seconds, his curiosity outweighed the worry that Monroe might find him stupid. "What does one do with an environmental studies degree?"

Monroe huffed out a laugh. "If one went to a school that was more… traditional, I guess one might use it to help with environmental law reform or maybe find a corporate job with a company to ensure that they remain in compliance with current legislation."

"Okay, let me rephrase the question. What are _you_ going to do with an environmental studies degree?"

"That's a really good question," Monroe muttered.

"Still trying to figure out what you want to be when you grow up?"

Monroe huffed, stealing a sidelong glance at Nick. "Something like that." After a moment's pause, he added, "What about you?"

"Criminal Justice," Nick said promptly.

"So, like a lawyer?"

"More like a cop, actually."

The silence in the car suddenly seemed so much more awkward than earlier.

"But I'm just a junior, so I have quite a few more years before I actually become one. I'm minoring in psychology, because I want to be able to understand why people do what they do."

"Good luck with that," Monroe muttered.

"Not a fan of psychology?"

"I just think that there are some dark people out there." Monroe gave Nick a sidelong glance, eyes showing some untold emotion. "It's a little safer not to try to get into their heads."

Although part of him wanted to pursue the conversation a little further, Nick decided that it might be a little heavy for a first date – no, a first conversation, he corrected himself. Because this was nothing like a date.

The conversation flowed a little freer after that, and Nick found himself charmed. He hadn't dated anyone over the summer, and now a month into the school year, he hadn't really found anyone who'd merited a second look.

Until now.

M

Monroe tried not to like this kid with the messy dark hair that tended to fall over large, earnest eyes, but he found himself smiling way more often than usual. He was charmed by Nick's grin, his gentle teases, his passion for knowledge. He also knew exactly what he wanted, something that Monroe found refreshing.

Monroe liked GN; it'd given him so much. However, there were times that the whole go-with-the-flow atmosphere made him want to grab someone's throat in his jaws and shake until they came up with an actual decision. So Nick's decisiveness was a welcome change.

And Nick smelled really good. Underneath the damp, he bore the indefinable scent of honesty and integrity and strength.

But he also smelled human, which made him off limits, even if attending JT and his future aspirations of being a cop hadn't already shown Monroe that. So Monroe reminded himself that as much as this human appealed to him, Nick was hands-off.

Monroe sighed to himself, wondering why after all these years he'd suddenly gotten tempted at the beginning of his senior year. Thankfully, Nick went to JT, so Monroe figured they'd never see each other again.

He blamed the slight pang in his chest on indigestion.

M

A little over an hour later, Nick found himself reluctantly getting out of Monroe's car, desperately trying to come up with an excuse to see him again. The rain had stopped, leaving the car stuffy enough that they'd both ended up rolling down their windows, and he bent down, sticking his head through passenger side's open window.

He suddenly realized probably should've used all of that travel time to come up with something, but he'd been completely focused on their conversation. During the drive, he'd turned so he could watch Monroe. He wondered if Monroe realized that his every thought and feeling seemed to pass over his face. And Monroe obviously felt and thought a lot, even though he didn't say much. He seemed interested in Nick, though Nick wasn't sure exactly where Monroe's sexual inclinations leaned. Nick figured if nothing else, they could become friends.

"Thanks for the ride. I owe you," Nick said, suddenly inspired.

"It wasn't a problem," Monroe insisted in a gruff voice that two hours earlier Nick might've mistaken for disinterest. But he knew a little better now.

"Dinner." Nick said decisively. "I'll take you to dinner."

Monroe stilled, a multitude of expressions passing over his face. Nick caught hesitance and worry and – was that fear? "Really, you don't owe me anything."

"How about I call you? We can set up a time." Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"I, um… don't have a cell phone," Monroe muttered, looking back out the driver's window, obviously uncomfortable.

"Oh." Nick said, blinking. "Well, I can get your home number or maybe give you my –" he started patting his jacket, looking for a pen or a scratch of paper.

"Look," Monroe said, sighing. "You're a nice guy, and maybe under other circumstances, we'd be friends. But you're a junior at JT studying to become a cop, and I'm a senior at a school where you could probably arrest every one of us for numerous offenses. The fact that we've managed never to meet in the two plus years you've been here should tell you that we really don't have anything in common."

Nick felt his resolve firm, and he put himself out there more than he normally would for someone he'd just met. For some reason, this was important. "But now we _have_ met, and I want to see you again." He leaned further into the window, noticing Monroe's hands tightening on the steering wheel, his face flushing. It felt like attraction, but Nick wasn't going to force it, at least not right now anyway, so he reluctantly pushed away from the car. "Thanks again. I'll see you around," he promised patting the roof once and stepping away before Monroe drove away.

Nick began to climb the stairs to where he and his roommates, Hank and Wu, lived on the third floor of a renovated house a few miles away from school, a true find in a small town with so many students. Moving his stuff up three flights had been so daunting his sophomore year that he'd decided that he was going to do his best to live there until he graduated.

"Hey!" Hank pushed through the entrance door and jogged up the few stairs to catch up with Nick. "I saw that you called me. You didn't leave a message so I figured it wasn't important, but I don't see your car out there. Everything okay?"

"I ran out of gas," Nick confessed, smiling shamefacedly as Hank snorted. "I didn't leave a message, because I remembered that you had class tonight. You think you could help me out?"

"No problem. Let's go now." Hank did a graceful turn and headed back down the stairs. "If we wait, we'll have a harder time getting ourselves off the sofa."

Nick followed his buddy down the stairs to the black 1995 Ford Taurus that had been retired as a police vehicle and auctioned off. Even now, in the daylight, he could still make out the faint impressions from the official markings on the sides. As he always did, Nick grinned a little. Hank wasn't even a cop yet, and he already had a cop car.

"You can wipe that smirk off your face," Hank said, unlocking the door. "At least mine's still running." He started the car and headed the direction Nick indicated. "Did you call Wu?"

"It went straight to voicemail."

Hank huffed a laugh. "Of course it did. So who dropped you off? Please tell me you weren't out there hitchhiking. You know how dangerous that is?"

"I do, actually," Nick said dryly. "You aren't the only criminal justice major in the car."

"Yeah, but you're a lowly junior, Small Fry," Hank teased.

"I'm not short; you're just unnaturally tall," Nick muttered as they fell into their usual banter.

"Stop changing the subject," Hank said. "How'd you get home?"

"I got picked up – and not like that," Nick said, just as Hank began to grin. "It was this senior from GN. Monroe."

Hank shot a look at Nick before returning his gaze to the road.

"What?"

"What what?"

"What was with the look?"

"I wasn't gonna say anything, but _Monroe_ ," Hank said, drawing out the name with a breathy tone.

Nick blinked. "What was that?"

"That was you, my friend," Hank started to laugh. "Nicky's got a crush!"

Glad the darkness hid the heat that flushed his face, Nick said, "I don't know what you're talking about, and you know I hate it when you call me that."

Still chuckling, Hank said, "I know that tone. You use it every time you meet someone you like. It's a dead giveaway." He thought a moment. "This is what? Your third or fourth from GN? Admit it, man. You have a thing for the earthy types."

That drew a reluctant smile from Nick. "I guess I do."

"So. Tell me about him. What's he like? Does he braid his hair and play ultimate Frisbee when he's not trying to cultivate a better strain of weed?"

Nick frowned. "That's illegal."

"And we're not cops yet," Hank said without pause.

Nick smiled, thinking of how he'd tried to get Monroe to understand that too.

"So, Mister Smiley Face, tell me about him."

So Nick did. He talked about Monroe's major and how he was a senior who wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his degree; he talked about Monroe's yellow Volkswagon. He described Monroe's beard and the flannel shirt that he seemed to fill out nicely from what Nick could see. He described Monroe's eyes and the way they crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He told Hank about how Monroe said he wasn't a people person but how he thought that Monroe was actually a little shy. He stopped talking briefly at the gas station to fill up Hank's gas can and then talked more about Monroe as they continued along their way. He didn't realize how much he had been talking until they pulled up behind his car.

"How long were you two together?"

"He just drove me home," Nick said, feeling a little awkward.

"And you got all that in an hour?"

"I might've grilled him a little bit," Nick admitted.

Hank shrugged. "You always do that when you like someone."

"I don't!"

Hank grinned. "You totally do. But it's okay, because they always think you're adorable."

Nick rolled his eyes, fighting another blush.

"So did you ask him out?"

"He said he didn't think it was a good idea," Nick said, opening his door and getting out.

"Wait!" Hank leaned low so he could see Nick out of the passenger side door. "You aren't letting it go are you?"

Nick grinned. "I already have a plan. I'll tell you about it when we get home."

Of course Hank couldn't wait, and he called Nick as they convoyed back to their apartment. "So what's the plan?" His voice filled up Nick's car; he always shouted when they were on speaker.

"I'm going to convince Juliette to have a party."

"You said he wasn't a people person, so I doubt he'll want to come to a kegger."

"GN's a small school; I bet she knows him – or knows someone who knows him. She'll come up with something."

Hank laughed. "You're the only person I know who's still really good friends with his ex's."

"Except for Adalind," Nick said, disliking the taste of her name in his mouth.

"She was boil a baby rabbit, horsehead in your bed psycho," Hank said. "She couldn't contain her crazy but luckily didn't take it out on you."

Nick winced. Even after all this time, he couldn't forget the sight of her being dragged away from her dorm kicking and screaming after she'd tried to stab her roommate. Everyone's attention had turned from her to him after they'd driven away, gauging the reaction from her most recent ex-boyfriend.

JT was a small school.

They got home, cracked a couple of sodas, and hunkered down in the living room to study, Hank on the sofa they'd bought used two years ago and spent two hours lugging upstairs, Nick at the small desk he'd found on a nearby curb. He'd bought the chair from a local thrift shop.

Less than twenty minutes later, Wu's faltering steps caught their attention, and they smiled at each other as they listened to him fumbling at the lock with his key.

"How long do you think it's going to take him to actually get the key in the lock?" Hank asked.

Nick raised a shoulder. "Even better question is, will he ever realize that the door's already unlocked?"

Eventually Wu stumbled inside, straightening when he realized that Hank and Nick were in the room. He smiled, attempting to walk a straight line to the sofa without giving away his obvious inebriation. He collapsed on the sofa, barely giving Hank enough time to pull his work out of the way.

"Have fun?" Hank asked.

"I did!" Wu said. "Of course, I wasn't the one out joy riding with a GN-ola." He looked deliberately at Nick.

"How did you –"

Wu blithefully raised a hand, stopping Hank. "I have my ways."

Hank rolled his eyes and smiled at Nick.

Nick didn't particularly like having people know his business; it was definitely one of the drawbacks of attending a small school. In a small town. "I ran out of gas, and he gave me a lift."

Wu shook his head. "Tomorrow, I'll call Dad. I know you want to fix everything yourself, but seriously, this gas gauge is getting ridiculous. I bet he has an old used one lying around somewhere. He keeps everything; just ask mom. Actually, don't unless you have a good two hours handy." Wu's parents lived about an hour outside of town, their house adjacent to his father's garage. Hank and Nick had been out there a few times for dinners and weekend lunches.

Wu's parents and sister were just like him – smart and fun, but a little loopy and filled with sarcastic rejoinders. They loved each other immensely, and the only time they weren't all talking at the same time was when they were asleep – or so Nick imagined. Wu's life was so different from his own that Nick found himself staring, fascinated at their dynamic. Hank had equated their visits with Nick going on a sociology outing, and that was kind of what it felt like.

After a few failed attempts, Wu managed to extricate himself from the sofa and tried to stand. "I'm heading to bed."

"Did you set your alarm?"

"Did it before I left this morning, mom," Wu muttered, running into a wall before disappearing into his room and closing the door.

Hank shook his head. "I don't remember getting like that on a Thursday night when I was a sophomore."

Nick gave him a pointed look. "Wu's probably not going to remember it much either."

Hank laughed as they returned to their books. "Good point."

It took the better part of a week for Nick and Juliette to arrange a time to get together for coffee at her favorite coffee shop in town, a popular GN hangout. Ignoring the stares and whispers, he ordered for the both of them and looked around for two available seats. Not spotting one, he casually leaned against a wall and waited.

Juliette arrived soon after, looking as beautiful as ever. She was by far the classiest woman he'd dated, and even now that they were no longer together, he appreciated how much she'd taught him about relationships. He might not've fallen in love with her, but he treasured her friendship.

"Hey!" She kissed him on the cheek. "Why aren't you sitting down?"

He gestured with her cup before handing it to her. "No room." He waited as she scanned the area.

"C'mon." She led him across the room to where one woman was sitting, focused on her computer. "Rosalee? Do you mind if we sit here?"

The woman looked up, blinked, and smiled. "There is always space for my roomie." She looked at Nick. "And her friend?"

Juliette made the introductions as they sat.

"So you're Nick. I can't believe it's taken this long for me to meet you."

Nick shook her hand, liking her immediately. He knew that Rosalee and Juliette'd been roommates since freshman year and had become such good friends that they'd found an apartment together their sophomore year, keeping it for this, their junior year. "You're majoring in something to do with herbal medicine, right?"

Rosalee nodded. "Kind of. I'm getting a bachelor's degree in Integrative Health Sciences, with concentrations in herbology and ethnobotany." She looked at Nick and laughed; he imagined his confusion was written all over his face. "Basically, I'm focusing on the connection between all living beings – plants, humans – "

" – animals," Juliette continued. "We're going to work on a paper together about alternative healing for pets."

"So you have a major, two concentrations, and a paper?"

"No wonder we've never met." Rosalee laughed. "It's a lot, but I love it."

"We don't mean to bother you."

"You aren't bothering me," Rosalee assured her roommate. "I'm going to study over here and mind my own business while you two talk over there. It'll be like we're strangers sharing a table." She gave them one last smile and returned to her computer.

Juliette turned to Nick. "So, what's up?"

"I need your help. I met someone – "

"This is about a hookup? Really?" She rolled her eyes.

"We haven't hooked up. I just need a way to see him again."

Juliette raised an eyebrow. "Him?"

"My car ran out of gas last week – I know," he said quickly before she could rag him about it too. "Wu's dad's already put in a working gauge." Which rankled him, because Nick had wanted to do it himself, and now he owed Wu's dad. He had to admit, though, that it was nice not to have to be so vigilant about his mileage. "Anyway, this guy gave me a ride back to my apartment."

"And you like him." She looked at him over her caramel macchiato.

"Maybe? We only had about an hour to get to know each other, and I'm not even sure he likes guys."

"Did you get his number?"

"He said he didn't have a cell phone."

"And you believe that?"

Nick wasn't sure, but out of everyone he knew, Monroe would be the one he would pick who wouldn't own one. He shrugged. "The point is that I need an excuse to see him again."

"So you can work your charms?"

Nick grinned. "I thought I wasn't as smooth as I thought I was," he teased, referencing an old conversation.

"You have your moments," she sighed. "So, how exactly can I help?"

"I don't know his last name, but he's a senior at GN, an environmental studies major."

"Really?" Rosalee poked her head over her laptop. "There aren't that many of them."

"She's right," Juliette confirmed. "What's his name?"

"Monroe."

Juliette and Rosalee looked at each other and laughed, and Nick couldn't help but smile, even though he didn't know what was so funny.

"What am I missing?"

"He's my ex," Rosalee said.

Nick found his smile fading.

"But your biggest problem isn't that he's heterosexual."

"Which he isn't," Juliette added.

"Not completely," Rosalee confirmed, boosting Nick's hope. "But he's kind of given up."

"On dating?" Juliette asked.

"On people in general, I think," Rosalee said. She closed her laptop, looking around before leaning in slightly and lowering her voice. "Monroe has always had a tough time letting people get close."

"He said he wasn't good with people."

"He's actually one of the sweetest, kindest men I have ever met, but he decided somewhere along the line that… I don't know, that maybe he didn't deserve happiness? I got the feeling that he had a difficult family life. I don't know the specifics, but I do know that he's paying for college by himself."

"Is that why you broke up, because he kept so much to himself? You never said," Juliette asked.

Rosalee looked thoughtful. "He wouldn't let me get close. I knew that he'd be there for me if I ever needed him, but he never opened up to me." She looked at Nick. "He's a great guy, but you need to know that he's going to keep you at arm's length."

"Nick's pretty good at shoving his way into people's lives," Juliette teased, shooting him a look.

"Hap's closer to him than anyone –"

"Hap Lasser?" Juliette asked. "Seriously?"

Rosalee grinned and nodded.

Nick, who'd been filing away everything he heard, asked, "Who's Hap Lasser?"

"If we had fraternities, he'd be the one who always knows where the parties are," Rosalee explained.

"And he'd be the guy you find passed out the next morning inside your doghouse," Juliette added.

"After he'd peed on your garden and killed your entire crop of tomatoes."

Nick had to press his lips together for a moment to reign in his laughter. "He sounds like the complete opposite of Monroe."

"They grew up together," Rosalee explained. "Hap's not a bad guy; he just lacks… depth."

"We'll have a party," Juliettete decided. "At our place."

"But Monroe said he doesn't like people," Nick reminded her.

"It'll be more of a dinner-type of party than a kegger," Juliette explained. "Rosalee'll ask him to cater it. He can't say no to her. And that'll force him to come."

"He'll try to stay in the kitchen," Rosalee warned him.

"I like kitchens," Nick said, hiding a small smile as he drank more of his coffee.

"We'll have to invite Hap," Rosalee said.

"Once he knows we'll have free food, he'll invite himself," Juliette said fondly, like she was talking about a family pet.

"Which means that it'll probably turn into a kegger at some point," Rosalee said with a sigh. She examined Nick. "Monroe's one of my favorite people, but he can be very hard-headed. You'll have your hands full trying to woo him. He'll be a true challenge.

"Perfect," Juliette said whimsically. "If there's one thing Nick loves, it is a challenge."

 **Chapter Note:** The poem Nick is thinking about is Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken". Odds are, if you didn't have to study it in high school, you know someone who did.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days later, Juliette texted, "Dinner on Friday, 7pm. Bring your roommates and wine. Good wine."

Nick hid his phone underneath his desk in the lecture hall and answered, "Thanx. I owe u 2."

"So very much," Juliette texted back, followed by three smiley emoticons.

By the time Wu and Hank dragged Nick out of their apartment Friday night, he'd changed his clothes three times.

"How can it take you so long?" Hank complained, hand firmly pulling Nick out of the door. "You own, like, seven t-shirts, and four of them are black."

"Don't forget the three pair of jeans," Wu added helpfully, locking the door.

"It's a dinner party that might or might not turn into a kegger. How do I dress for that and still look good?"

"Don't worry," Wu said, pushing his way past his roommates and starting down the stairs. "Your ass looks just as terrific in all of them."

Hank and Nick shared a confused – and slightly uncomfortable look – before shrugging and following.

Juliette and Rosalee's apartment was slightly less than a mile away, and they decided to walk, stopping off at a nearby liquor store for the promised bottle of wine.

"So this party will probably be full of GN-olas, huh?" Wu asked.

"I'm not the only JT student Juliette knows," Nick said, "I don't know how many people she invited, so we'll have to see."

"You guys think we'll have any problems?"

Nick looked over at Hank. There'd been quite a few parties that had gone into history as competitive throw-downs between the two schools. He'd never been involved or even seen one, so he liked to picture a bunch of bearded, long haired guys in sandals throwing hacky sacks and tie-dyed tee-shirts.

Hank finally shook his head, answering Wu. "It's a dinner party. How bad can it get? Besides, the whole point of this is to aim Nick here toward his boy and let those big eyes do their magic."

Nick frowned. "What big eyes?"

Wu snorted. "Juliette probably went out with you in the first place because you reminded her of those cute little puppies she has to hold at the animal hospital. You know, the ones who are in pain, with big old tears gathering in their huge eyes."

"So you're calling me a hurt dog?" Nick complained lightly.

"No," Wu said promptly. "I'm calling you a hurt _puppy_. How're you going to make a decent cop if you don't pay attention to the details?"

They arrived ten minutes late, able to walk straight into the apartment building thanks to a well-placed street cone holding the normally locked front door open.

Hank frowned, looking at the orange cone. "That's not very safe."

"No one'd be dumb enough to try to mess with them when they have three strong men – and Nick – to protect them."

Nick gave Wu a look. "Remember that introduction to Suzanna you wanted?"

"I separated you, because you're the strongest and wisest of all," Wu said without a pause.

"You can pull anything out of your ass, can't you?" Hank asked, following Wu up the stairs.

"It's a gift," Wu said. "What floor?"

"Third," Nick said. "Apartment 301."

"Why does everyone we know, including us, live on the top floor?" Hank complained.

"Because it's so much fun to see drunk people falling down multiple flights of stairs at the butt crack of dawn?" Wu hazarded.

Nick laughed as they walked up to the door. He raised his hand to knock, but the door swung open.

"Hey," Rosalee said, smiling. "Come on in."

"What are you, psychic?" Wu asked. Nick could tell he was only partially joking.

"I heard you on the way up. The acoustics in this building are great – as long as you want everyone to know your business." She looked at Hank. "Everyone who lives in the building is either here at the party or in class, and we made sure all of the other apartment doors are locked. We try to be safe."

Hank just stared and grunted out something indecipherable, shoving the bottle of wine at Rosalee, who smiled and thanked him, almost making Hank dissolve into a puddle of happiness right in front of them.

Wu and Nick shared a grin before Nick made the introductions. "Rosalee, these are my roommates Wu and Hank. Wu and Hank, this is Rosalee, Juliette's roommate."

"Pleased to meet you," Wu said, smiling before he looked around the small apartment. "Nice place."

"It's small, but it's perfect for us," Rosalee said, surveying the room as well. "We both live here year, 'round, so we don't have to worry about finding a new apartment every year."

Nick turned and saw Monroe's back through the passthrough to the kitchen, and he felt his mouth go dry. Monroe was wearing a blue flannel shirt, and his shoulders seemed to fill the small area. Nick had never seen him standing, and he'd had no idea the other man was so tall.

Hank's gentle nudge caught his attention. "You gonna go in there or just stare at him from here?"

Ignoring Hank, Wu, and Rosalee's grins, Nick walked into the kitchen. "Hey."

"Hey, Nick," Juliette said, closing the refrigerator door. "Monroe, this is Nick, Nick, this is Monroe." She gave them both a guileless smile that had Nick wondering if she weren't more suited for the theater than a vet's office.

Monroe stood frozen, obviously surprised.

"We've met," Nick said, smiling, trying not to laugh at Monroe's matching flannel apron.

Juliette peered into the living room. "It looks like we have some more guests. I'd better get out there and help Rosalee – that is if you wouldn't mind helping Monroe, Nick?" She gave them both another innocent smile.

"Not a problem," Nick assured her as he faced her, mouthing a thanks before she left the room. He turned back to Monroe, who stood staring at him with squinted eyes, as if he were trying to figure something out.

"I told you I'd see you again," Nick said, rolling up his sleeves. "Where do you want me?" He suppressed a smile when he watched Monroe force down a swallow.

"First you need to wash those hands. Who knows where they've been?"

Nick had to force back a series of smart-ass answers, cursing Wu's bad influence, and washed before turning back to Monroe, holding out dripping hands like a surgeon. "What next?"

"Next you dry your hands," Monroe muttered, grabbing a cloth and rubbing it over Nick's hands. "Philistine."

Nick looked down, fascinated by the size of Monroe's hands as they covered his. Despite Monroe's gruff look, he was surprisingly gentle… and warm, Nick realized as he took a small step closer.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there before he realized that Monroe had finished drying his hands, but he decided that he didn't really care.

"Umm, we'd better get back or the rest of the appetizers will never be ready," Monroe said, finally stepping back and turning toward the stove.

"And what are we having tonight?" Nick asked.

"I was going to make an actual dinner, you know, appetizer, main course, dessert, but Juliette called me yesterday and told me that the party had gotten bigger than she expected, so we decided to just make a variety of appetizers." Monroe glanced at Nick, who pretended not to notice. "The challenge was to find something that everyone could eat."

"Because of allergies?"

"And dietary choices. Juliette and Rosalee are friends with pretty much everyone. Some people are gluten-free, some vegetarian. Others are vegan, and then we have a couple of people who might be showing up who have intolerances to cinnamon, garlic, and black pepper." He must've noticed Nick's look, because he added, "Seriously. That's one of the reasons why Juliette always asks me to make the food.

"The brownies – gluten free – are hiding out in Rosalee's room with the chips, because Hap's friends are like locusts."

Nick smiled, leaning against the passthrough, happy to just watch Monroe move around the kitchen as they talked. "They leave nothing in their wake?"

Monroe nodded. "You're lucky if there's a crumb left." He opened the oven, peering in for a second before nodding and pushing it closed. "The fig and prosciutto flatbreads, cauliflower poppers, and spinach artichoke dip are all ready." He nodded toward a group of covered dishes on the corner of the counter. "I'm keeping an eye on the upside-down tart in the oven right now, so if I can get you to cut up a few things, I can finish Hap's super nachos, and we'll be set."

"That's… a lot of food," Nick said.

Monroe suddenly looked nervous. "I hadn't planned on making so many dishes, but with – "

"It sounds good," Nick said hastily. "The parties I've gone to, you'd be lucky to find one bag of chips for everyone to share." He shrugged. "I'm not used to being so spoiled."

Monroe bent his head, as if to hide a smile. "I like to cook, so…"

"Ever thought about becoming a chef?"

Monroe shook his head. "It's a hobby, something I like to do every once in a while. Doing it professionally…"

"…would turn it from fun into an obligation?" Nick supplied.

"Yeah," Monroe said, looking at him, his gaze considering. After a few seconds, he shook his head a little and said, "Hap's nachos have steak."

"Meat! Fantastic!" Nick rubbed his hands together happily, taking the abrupt conversation turn in stride.

Monroe rolled his eyes while he slid a cutting board in front of Nick and plopped some apples, carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower to the side. He paused for a moment with a large knife, eyeballing Nick.

"Think I'm gonna go crazy with the knife and carve up everybody?" Nick teased. He made a slow perusal of Monroe, making sure Monroe was aware that he was taking in the whole package. "Starting with you?"

Monroe gave him a small smile. "I think I could take you."

"I don't know," Nick teased. "I'm stronger than I look."

Monroe eyeballed Nick back, his gaze sending heat everywhere he looked until Nick found himself almost out of breath. After a few seconds, Monroe blinked, flushed, and turned away. "Let me rinse this off for you…"

Nick smiled, looking absently out into the living room. He hadn't even been there fifteen minutes, and things were definitely looking good. He saw Hank and Rosalee talking over by a window. Well, Rosalee was talking; Hank just nodded, a besotted smile on his face. Nick wondered if Hank even heard a single thing she was saying.

Nick took the knife Monroe handed him and absently began cutting as he looked for his other friend.

Wu stood behind the sofa, chatting animatedly with three large men. He seemed like a child standing among grownups, forced to look up as they spoke, his neatly trimmed hair and black t-shirt a stark contrast to their wild manes and t-shirts covered with band names. Two of the three men had long beards; one had braided his, a look Nick found a little puzzling. One of the men shifted, completely obscuring Wu from Nick's view but revealing a rather large keg. "That explains it," he muttered.

"What explains what?" Monroe asked, doing a poor job at being subtle as he eyeballed Nick's cutting skills.

"My friend Wu," Nick tilted his head in Wu's direction, "was worried that there might be tension between the two schools tonight.

Monroe snorted. "Hap brought a keg. The one thing he's taught me is that the right amount of alcohol is great at making friends. Too much or too little, and you end up having to bail people out of jail and clean blood up off the floor." He looked a little stricken after the words had slipped from his mouth.

"I've heard of lots of trouble over the years over a keg," Nick said, deliberately not reacting to the fact that Monroe sounded like he'd had to do both of those things. Repeatedly.

"Yeah, but I bet Hap wasn't there," Monroe said mildly, his attention on the stove. "He's a big goof."

"The current thinking is that genetics and the way alcohol effects our neurological system play a part in it, along with our current mood and stress levels when… we… drink." Nick finally stopped his awkward lecture and shot a glance at Monroe, who thankfully seemed amused rather than bored. He cleared his throat and stepped back. "How's this?"

"Perfect!" Monroe exclaimed.

Nick looked back at the various sizes of the vegetables he'd just cut. The job was by no means perfect, but he thought it was good enough for college students just happy for free food. He did enjoy the feeling Monroe's words had given him, though.

M

Monroe knew he wasn't a roll-with-it kind of guy. Sure, he'd handled it fine when Bud had planted zucchini in the area Monroe had previously designated for radishes (and if he'd possibly torn open some seed bags in the storage shed that he'd guiltily sewn up later, well no one else needed to know), and he hadn't even had to smother a growl of annoyance when Juliette replaced his dinner menu with her appetizer request. But he hadn't expected to run into Nick again.

Sure, the other man had said that he'd see Monroe again, but really, what were the odds when they'd only met once in three years? He'd done his best to dismiss the other man from his mind, but he'd found himself staring into space every once in a while, every part of their conversation running through his mind. It hadn't really bothered him until the day Hap noticed – and Hap rarely noticed anything that had nothing to do with beer or food.

Hap had been shoveling pancakes in his mouth as he sat on the living room sofa when he stopped, staring at Monroe with a befuddled look on his face.

"What?" Monroe asked, plopping down on the chair, plate in his own hands.

"Where's my napkin?"

"You never use a napkin," Monroe reminded him.

"I know, but you always give me one anyway." Hap sat up a little. "And you put the pancake dishes in the sink instead of washing them as you go."

"I'll wash them later," Monroe said, unsure of why he felt so panicky.

"You never wash them later." Hap stared at Monroe long enough for Monroe to get a little nervous. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Monroe insisted, hoping his voice didn't sound as weak to Hap as it did to himself.

Hap stared at him, confused. "It's something," he insisted. "Are you in trouble?" He looked alarmed. "Am I in trouble?"

Monroe sighed as he walked into the kitchen and retrieved a napkin, plunking it down beside Hap. "Is that better?"

Hap gave him a mournful look. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Monroe insisted. He looked at the clock on the mantle. "Aren't you supposed to be meeting the guys in a few minutes to pick up a keg for that party?"

"You think you can distract me, but it's not going to work." Hap squinted at Monroe. "I'm focused on this."

"Okay," Monroe said, trying to keep his voice light, "but I hope that they get a full keg."

That was all it took. Hap shoved the remaining piece of pancake in his mouth and tossed his dirty dishes in the sink as he mumbled a thanks for the breakfast for dinner as he rushed out of the house.

That was enough to force Monroe to do his best to push Nick out of his mind so he could return to his routine.

Monroe forced his attention back to the present as he slid a glance over toward Nick, who'd finished hacking at the vegetables Monroe'd asked him to cut. He hadn't done a terrible job, but it was obvious that he hadn't spent much time in the kitchen. Fortunately, Monroe thought as he looked into the growing crowd in the living room, the clientele was more interested in shoveling food in their faces and consuming as much free beer as their bodies would allow than they were in the aesthetics of food decoration. And while he might not admit it out loud and technically didn't really need it, Monroe appreciated the help.

"Hey, how're the munchies coming?" Rosalee asked from the other side of the passthrough.

"I think we're ready," Monroe said, wiping his hands on his apron and examining the nachos. "Do you want the brownies now or later?"

"Let's put them out later," Rosalee decided, looking over at Nick.

"Oh! Sorry. Nick, this is Rosalee, Juliette's roommate." Monroe washed his hands and took the fruit plate out of the refrigerator.

"We've met," Nick said, and Monroe watched him freeze for a brief second.

"I was doing door duty," Rosalee said, "and met Nick and his roommates Hank and Wu when they arrived."

Monroe looked at the two of them for another second, feeling that he was missing something, but they just looked back at him with overly innocent expressions that told him he wasn't going to learn their secret and should just let it go. He sighed, acquiescing, and asked, "Do you want me to lay out the food on the counter?"

"That'd be great," Rosalee said. "Let me grab some of the other stuff you stashed in my room, and then I'll let everyone know that the food is ready."

Monroe snorted, arranging Nick's chopped apples onto a plate. "Just tell Hap, and everyone'll know within seconds. On second thought, tell Hap last."

Rosalee laughed. "He'll eat all of the food before anyone else gets a chance?"

Monroe just rolled his eyes.

"Tell Wu," Nick suggested, pulling the veggie platter out of the refrigerator and handing it to Monroe. "It sounds like he's just as chatty as your friend, but his appetite might be a little more manageable."

Rosalee nodded, heading toward the small Asian man who'd been chatting earlier with Hap and his friends by the keg – Hap's contribution to the party.

Thanks to their two-man distribution line, they'd just managed to put out all of the food – minus the brownies – when people started crowding around the passthrough. Monroe quickly grabbed the buffet cards from where he'd stashed them on top of the refrigerator and placed them in front of each dish. He stepped back, satisfied, and saw Nick's grin. "What?" He asked, a little self-consciously. "This way, the people with allergies and intolerances will know what's in everything."

Nick just shook his head. "You thought of everything."

Monroe hid a burst of pride behind a shrug that he hoped looked casual. "This isn't my first party."

Nick looked at Monroe's chest. "Is that supposed to explain the apron?"

Monroe pressed a hand against his chest and proudly ran it down the flannel apron that matched his shirt. "A friend of mine, Kirsten, made it for me last year. Isn't it great?"

He felt Nick eyeballing him and felt his face go warm. "She's a textiles & clothing minor." He cleared his throat. "She, uh, also majors in Environmental Studies, and I helped her with, umm, a project that she, needed help with, so…" He realized he was rambling and snapped his mouth shut. Then he couldn't help himself from adding, "It was a thank you."

"That was very nice of her," Nick said smiling, obviously enjoying Monroe's discomfort.

Monroe knew he was staring, but Nick looked good in his black t-shirt, eyes twinkling. Actually, he just looked really, really good. Monroe heard himself mumbling something back but had no idea what he'd said. As long as Nick kept standing in front of him with that look on his face, Monroe didn't even care. His world shrank to just the two of them in the kitchen, Nick smelling of a combination of the vegetables he'd just hacked and something Monroe was quickly thinking of as Nick's distinctive smell.

A round of loud laughter broke the spell, and they both looked at the crowd through the passthrough.

"I wish I could cook even one of these," Nick said, stepping beside Monroe and surveying the feast.

"I wish you could too." Nick's friend, Wu, dipped a chip into the spinach artichoke dip and popped it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned, then opened his eyes and stared at Monroe. "Seriously. I'll pay you a thousand dollars to teach Nick to cook like this."

"You don't even have ten dollars," Nick said, the teasing tone of his voice telling Monroe that this was one of those roommate interactions that they probably had all the time.

"For food like this – " Wu had to pause a second to pop a cauliflower popper into his mouth and swallow, " – I will get the money. Drug trafficking, pole dancing, whatever it takes."

Nick barely blinked. "The drug trafficking might not look so impressive when you're trying to get into the academy."

"That's okay. I'd make better money working the pole anyway," Wu said, doing some sort of slinky thing with his body, "I got moves."

A tall black man strode up, clapping Wu on the shoulder. "We've talked about doing body rolls in public," he said as he eyeballed the food. "What's good?"

"It's all good if Monroe made it," Hap said, shouldering his way to the counter.

Embarrassed but pleased, Monroe quickly said, "Hap, this is Nick. Nick, this is Hap, my roommate and frequent pain in the – "

"Dude!" Hap said. "I give you a compliment, and you are suddenly so unkind!" He grabbed a hand full of nachos, ignoring the napkins and small plates Monroe had placed on either side of the counter, shoving it all into his mouth at once. "Oh, man! My super nachos!" He smiled around the food. "I forgive you."

Monroe sighed. "No talking with food in your mouth."

Hap just grinned and shouldered his way past the cluster of people, most likely heading for the keg.

"Wow," Nick said, watching people automatically creating a space for Hap.

"Yeah," Monroe sighed. "Despite the fact that he has the manners of a three-year-old, he's a really nice guy."

"He looks like he has the appetite of an offensive tackle," Wu said.

"Our food co-op almost voted us out," Monroe admitted. "The problem is that he's such a nice guy that they felt like they were kicking a kitten."

"I'm sorry," Nick said suddenly. "Hank and Wu, this is Monroe. Monroe, my roommates Hank and Wu."

Monroe exchanged nods.

"So you really made all of this?" Hank asked.

"I cut the veggies and the apples," Nick boasted.

"Yeah," Wu said, slowly drawing out the word. "I was wondering what had happened over there."

Monroe leaned back against the refrigerator and enjoyed the banter between the roommates. It was obvious that they liked each other and spent a lot of time together, and Monroe found himself laughing a little as he quietly replenished the dwindling food.

Eventually, Rosalee arrived with the brownies, which Monroe put out as she and Hank each took one and walked away, chatting.

Wu wiggled his eyebrows. "I think Hank found something he likes better than the food." He snatched a brownie. "I better go mingle." Another wiggle of his eyebrows, and he disappeared into the crowd.

Nick looked at Monroe. "What about you? Want to go mingle?"

What Monroe wanted to do was grab Nick, find a little corner, and get a little closer, but he reminded himself that Nick was not his to have. He just shook his head. "I'm not much of a partier," he admitted.

"That's right. You aren't a people person."

Monroe looked around, feeling a slight longing to be like Wu or Hank or even Nick, where he could just comfortably move around a crowd, but he'd never really been that guy. "Don't feel like you have to stay here," he said, reluctantly.

Nick shook his head. "It's comfortable in here." He smiled at Monroe. "And I like the company."

Monroe dipped his head as he felt his cheeks warm. He was a grown man, and here he was blushing like… like someone much, much younger. At a loss, he suddenly blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I'd wanted to make something with kohlrabi, but Juliette and Rosalee ganged up and outvoted me."

Nick blinked, obviously trying to keep up with the change in subject, and Monroe groaned inwardly at himself.

"Okay, I don't know what that is," Nick said finally.

"It's a vegetable related to cabbage and broccoli. I've found some really good recipes that I've wanted to try out…" As he heard the words escaping from his mouth, Monroe's mind asked why he kept talking. Again. Finally the words dried up, leaving Monroe silent and embarrassed.

"I'm not sure about that kohlrabi, but Wu had a great idea about helping me learn how to cook. Is there any way I could convince you to give me a lesson, maybe teach me how to make Hap's nachos?" Nick'd grabbed the mostly-empty nacho platter and had scraped up what little was left with the last remaining chips. He now held out the empty dish to Monroe. "These were fantastic!"

Monroe grinned. "It's not really difficult. I could give you the recipe – "

"I might've fooled you with my remarkable vegetable cutting skills, but I'm pretty hopeless in the kitchen."

"He totally is," Hank agreed, sighing as he looked down at the empty dishes. "I missed seconds on the nachos?"

"All three of you look like you've been doing okay," Monroe said, taking the platter from Nick and laying down a row of chips.

"Lots of cans, lots of boxes," Nick informed him.

"And lots of milk for all of the cereal we eat," Hank said.

Monroe added shredded cheese over a layer of meat sauce and followed with another layer of sauce. "It really isn't that difficult."

"Terrific, because I don't think I'm up to anything too complicated."

"It doesn't even require that many ingredients," Monroe said, attempting to worm his way out of something that sounded way too promising.

"Then it shouldn't take you that long to teach me, right?" Nick asked with what looked like a hopeful smile on his face.

Monroe had braced himself for the smile; it was the earnest look in Nick's eyes that had him folding like a wet paper towel. He sighed. "Fine." He put the concoction into the oven and took out one he'd slipped in earlier. Sprinkling some shredded cheese along the top, he returned the platter to the counter.

"All _right_!" Hank said, grabbing a small plate and piling it full. He was gently pushed aside as a woman piled some on her plate as well.

Hap suddenly appeared. "Monroe, man, I'm just gonna – " he snatched the mostly-full platter and disappeared back into the crowd.

"Were we just witness to a food hit and run?" Nick asked, half-smile on his face.

"It's about the only time Hap'll move that fast," Monroe admitted. A rousing cheer rose from the direction of the keg. "He must've made it back safely." He turned to find Nick shoveling the artichoke dip into his mouth with a carrot.

"This is good too!" Nick sounded surprised, but Monroe couldn't find the annoyance that would've normally accompanied a comment like that. Nick grabbed a sweet potato chip and dipped it into the hummus.

"That's not really – " Monroe winced as he watched Nick shove the strange combination into his mouth, chewing a couple of times, looking thoughtful.

"Those really weren't made to go together," Monroe said, trying not to sound defensive. The sweet potato chips were really good, but they hadn't been designed to dip into hummus.

"It's surprisingly tasty," Nick said, grabbing a few more chips.

The rest of the evening seemed to pass in a haze of inappropriate food combinations (Hank tried the cauliflower poppers with Monroe's homemade ketchup created for that purpose but then had to go and drop a dollop of hummus right on top. Not to be outdone, Wu put some of the chips on his quince tart and declared it delicious. Even Rosalee joined in, smothering her fig and prosciutto flatbread with the hummus. Monroe'd finally thrown up his arms and declared that he was washing his hands of it all and wouldn't be responsible for any and all stomach aches resulting from their bad decisions.) and flirty looks from Nick. The first actually made him proud that everyone was enjoying his food so much, and the second had him agreeing to almost anything Nick suggested.

Which was how he found himself standing outside of Nick's apartment building, grocery bags in hand, the following Friday night.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

He'd been going over it in his mind in what seemed like a continuous loop since the party. Maybe he'd read it wrong; maybe Nick was just interested in being friends. After all, Monroe'd learned that Nick had dated Juliette once upon a time. But then again, Monroe himself had dated Rosalee, so it didn't necessarily have to mean anything.

Maybe it was about the food. Monroe might not've tasted Hap's super nachos, but he'd never heard anything less than rave reviews, and he knew from experience and feedback that the rest of the appetizers and desserts he had made for the party had all tasted delicious.

Of course, Monroe rationalized, food didn't really seem like enough of an incentive to flirt with someone. But then again, he reminded himself, they were in college, and the importance of food found itself possibly tied only to sex in life's most important matters.

So he'd go teach Nick how to make some food and maybe leave with a few more memories of Nick looking at him underneath those long lashes. Because really, that is all this could ever be. Nick was human, which meant that he was off limits. So even if he were to ignore his goal of keeping everything basic in his life, Monroe wouldn't – couldn't – just hitch up his horse to a human. That would only end badly for both of them. Monroe chose to ignore the fact that he had to keep reminding himself about that.

"This is stupid," he muttered, starting to turn away when the door opened.

"Hey!" Hank smiled as he and Wu almost ran into Monroe as they exited the building. "Nick's waiting for you upstairs."

"You're leaving?" Monroe hoped the slight panic he felt wasn't revealed in his voice.

Hank's smile widened like he saw something Monroe would rather keep to himself.

"Yeah, we're meeting friends at the Rat."

"But you should stay, be our taste testers."

Wu looked like he was considering it for a second but then sighed. "He practically shoved us out the door. There's no way he's letting us back in there right now."

Monroe opened his mouth, but Hank clapped him on the shoulder and pushed him through the doorway. "Have a good night."

"Don't do any – oomph!" Wu said as Hank covered his mouth and shoved him down the sidewalk.

Monroe looked up the stairwell, knowing that he should leave but also knowing that he really, really wanted to go up there. Straightening his shoulders, he reminded himself that he'd made worse decisions in his life. And after all, it was just one cooking lesson. Adjusting his grip on the bags, he took a deep breath and started up the stairs, attempting to convince himself that they were just two guys hanging out.

M

As he changed his shirt for the fourth time, Nick found himself grateful that he'd already forced Wu and Hank out of the apartment. They'd teased him when he'd spent more time than usual in the shower, grinned the first three times he'd changed his shirt, and rolled their eyes at him when he'd forced them to raise their legs so he could clean in front of the sofa with the vacuum he'd borrowed from Mrs. Finch next door.

He was in the bathroom, giving himself one last look-over and breath check when he heard the knock on the door. Shaking his head at the excitement unfurling in his chest, he opened the door and smiled.

Monroe's hair, which had been a riotous mess both times Nick had seen him, looked to have been wrangled into some state of order, and Monroe had forgone his flannel for a long-sleeved blue button down collared shirt, curiously with a matching vest. The evidence that he'd taken pains with his look as well made Nick feel much better about the evening.

"Hey, c'mon in." He opened the door wider so Monroe could enter with his paper bags. "The kitchen's over there." He pointed in the general vicinity of the living room. The apartment was small enough that the kitchen was pretty easy to scope out. The four closed doors were the three bedrooms and the bathroom, so Nick didn't really feel the need to pretend that Monroe needed a tour.

Monroe passed him, and Nick spotted the backpack, nicely showing off the expanse of Monroe's shoulders. He followed, quietly enjoying the view until Monroe turned around, placing the bags on the kitchen counter and examining the small space.

"Yeah, we really don't do much in here except use the microwave," Nick explained apologetically, scratching self-consciously at his cheek.

"You're in college," Monroe said, shrugging as he pulled off his backpack. "I figured you wouldn't have much, so I came prepared." Unzipping it, he pulled out few pieces of paper. "Here are the recipes for what we're making tonight and for some of the stuff we had last week."

Nick took the pages. "Are Hap's Nachos in here?"

Monroe nodded.

"Sweet!"

Monroe reached back into the backpack and pulled out a cutting board and a bolt of cloth that he unwrapped to reveal a row of sharp knives.

"Wicked," Nick said, automatically reaching for the largest one.

"Nope," Monroe said, slapping gently at Nick's hand. "Did you not learn from the other day?"

After a second, Nick remembered. "Wash my hands?"

Monroe beamed like Nick was suddenly his favorite student, and Nick felt himself preening a bit – suddenly even happier that his best friends weren't around to see.

Nick made a show of looking around Monroe. "No flannel apron tonight?"

"That's my formal apron; I only break that out for special occasions," Monroe answered without so much as a pause.

A few seconds later, they laughed, and Nick was reminded how much fun Monroe could be once he relaxed. "So what're we making?" He asked, letting Monroe wash his hands first in the kitchen sink.

"Veggie Quesadillas with Black Beans."

Nick must've looked a little wary, because Monroe gently nudged him with a shoulder. "Don't worry; it's easy."

"Easy for you and easy for me are two totally different things," Nick reminded him.

"No, seriously. You can totally make this." Monroe pulled out some green peppers, an onion, some tomatoes, a glass container, a few baggies, and a couple of bottles from the bag. He looked around. "You said you had a pan?"

"Right," Nick said, happy to be contributing something to the party. He wished he'd remembered earlier about bragging about the pan at the party. He would've liked to have had it on the stove already, maybe like they actually used it for more than an extra plate when their other dishes were dirty. He had to look in a couple of cupboards before finding it holding a bag of chips that they must've forgotten about, because they totally would've eaten them around 3am if they'd remembered about them.

Monroe simply shook his head, making a bit of a production, in Nick's opinion, about washing it before sticking it on the stove. He looked doubtfully at the dials. "We're not going to blow up the building if I turn this on, right?"

"Of course not!" Nick huffed, discretely reaching into his pocket to make sure he still had his phone. Just in case.

Monroe didn't seem convinced, but he took a breath and turned one of the dials. "So we're preheating the oven to 350 degrees."

Nick nodded, making a mental note.

Monroe handed Nick one of the containers and instructed him to pour the contents into the pan. "These are precooked black beans. Mine are organic, but you can just buy a can of them or refried beans at the store." One of the baggie's contents followed the beans. "This is my homemade taco seasoning, but you can buy a package of this at the store too." He looked up at Nick. "Can you grab a large spoon?"

Glad that he could find it quickly – large spoons were easier to dig out frozen ice cream than smaller, bendier ones – he held it up proudly.

Monroe obviously held back a laugh and tilted his head toward the pan. "The stove's on medium heat, so be careful. You just want to mix up the beans with the seasoning. You'll cook it until the beans are completely heated, usually about five minutes or so."

Nick stirred for a minute, peered into the pan, thinking that everything was probably mixed enough, then rethought it and swirled his spoon around a little more. "How do I know if it's mixed enough?" He looked back at Monroe, who was leaning against the island, small smile on his face. Nick couldn't help but smile back. "What?"

"Nothing," Monroe said, blinking as he pushed to standing and peered over Nick's shoulder.

Nick took an unobtrusive breath, enjoying the mixture of some sort of woodsy scent and another, mildly spicy smell that he was coming to recognize as inherently Monroe's.

"That looks good," Monroe said, clearing his throat as he stepped back, and Nick thought that maybe he wasn't the only one who liked getting a little closer.

Monroe talked Nick through the rest of the meal, and in about fifteen minutes, they were sitting down on the sofa, plates in their laps.

"Sorry we don't have a table," Nick said, picking up his spoon. He'd never even thought about getting one until he looked around, seeing the place through Monroe's eyes. Now he noticed how threadbare everything looked, from the scratches on the chair to the dents on the desk and the tuffs escaping from different parts of the sofa.

Monroe shrugged, hitching his plate a little higher on his lap. "You haven't seen my place. Hap'd be happy with just a mattress on the floor."

Nick smiled. "The only thing in the entire apartment?"

"Well, he'd probably have a keg too," Monroe said with a snort. "And he'd need a refrigerator for his beer."

"Isn't that why he has the keg?"

"There are times when he needs his beer cold," Monroe informed him dryly, making Nick laugh.

The rest of the evening went really well. Nick had bribed Rosalee with a much-needed dose of caffeine to pick her brain about Monroe, and he'd bought a fruit salad for desert.

Rosalee had given him great advice, and he sat there after dinner, watching Monroe wax poetic about the different fruits.

"… and this strawberry? It's too ripe for them to have trucked it in." Monroe took another bite, surprisingly delicate for someone of his size. He held up and considered the remaining piece – how he managed to get three bites out of one strawberry was pretty impressive. "It didn't come from that hydroponics place out on route one."

"How do you know that?" Nick didn't really care, but he liked watching Monroe suck at the fruit, the way he closed his eyes and moaned when he found a particular piece that he really enjoyed. Nick was half hard, and they hadn't even kissed yet.

"Despite what some say," Monroe's face took on an annoyed glare, "hydroponic strawberries don't have the same robust taste as ones grown in the ground." He finished the strawberry and started on a piece of peach, licking a stray drop from his bottom lip before Nick gave into temptation and licked it off himself. "Seriously, where did you get these?"

"Wu has a cousin who owns a small greenhouse a few miles outside of town," Nick confessed.

"I think a couple of GN grad students have been working out there," Monroe said.

Nick thought he heard a tone and couldn't help but investigate. "That sounds like something you might be good at."

Monroe shrugged, his eyes focused on the bowl of fruit in his lap. "The Fruit and Vegetable Management majors get first dibs at things like that. Besides, I'm busy being Chief Gardener on campus."

"That sounds pretty impressive," Nick said, finally taking his first bite of fruit. He was distracted for a moment, because Monroe had been right – it was really good.

He tuned back in quickly and caught the tail-end of Monroe's next sentence. " –ounds more impressive than it is, really. It is just a work-study thing."

"Here," Nick said, forking over half of his fruit into Monroe's empty bowl.

"Are you sure?"

Nick wanted to say that as good as the fruit was, he would much rather watch Monroe eat it, but he simply smiled and said, "Just eat the fruit."

Monroe gave him a large smile and dug right into it. "Just amazing." He turned toward Nick abruptly. "Did you try one of the strawberries?"

Nick shook his head.

"Seriously. Eat one. I thought I'd never use the word 'succulent' for a strawberry, but this – " he stabbed one with his fork and held it between them, " – has totally changed my mind."

Nick bent forward, sliding the piece of red fruit off the fork and letting the flavor burst on his tongue. He savored the taste as he observed Monroe's stare, the hungry look now turned toward him, and he continued to hold Monroe's gaze as he chewed.

"You're right. These are fantastic."

Monroe continued to stare, fork hovering in midair.

Nick slid a little closer, gently pulling the fork from Monroe's fingers.

Clearing his voice, Monroe whispered, "This is a bad idea."

"No, this is a fantastic idea," Nick whispered back before leaning forward and capturing Monroe's lips.

And it was good, better than Nick had imagined, and he possessed a fantastic imagination.

He'd expected the scratchiness of Monroe's beard, but he hadn't planned on the friction against his cheek to raise the goosebumps in his arms.

His mind barely registering the 'thunk' of their, thankfully, plastic bowls hitting the floor, Nick's focus remained on Monroe's pressing against him until they were lying on the sofa, Monroe on top of him. It took him a little while to notice that Monroe was using an arm to hold himself off of Nick, and he found that he didn't like that idea at all.

M

Monroe'd been so focused on the fruit, each bite smelling almost as good as it tasted, that he'd somehow completely missed the smell of Nick's arousal until Nick had wrapped his lips around the fork, slowly sliding the strawberry into his mouth, humming softly as he focused on Monroe.

And Monroe felt his control slipping. He tried to remember why this wasn't a good idea, but everything flew out of his mind the moment Nick kissed him. And suddenly he couldn't get close enough.

He pressed Nick down against the sofa, using an arm to prop himself as he concentrated on delving back into Nick's mouth, which tasted even better than the fruit.

Using some sort of weird arm movement, Nick dislodged Monroe's arm, and Monroe almost fell on top of him, barely catching himself.

"You won't crush me," Nick whispered against Monroe's ear.

"So you say, until you can't breathe." Monroe pushed himself back up, looked into Nick's large grey eyes, and promptly forgot what else he was going to say.

Nick sighed. "Fine." He wiggled from underneath Monroe and flipped them until he was the one on top. "Better?"

"Mmm," Monroe said, cupping the back of Nick's head, pushing gently until their lips met again. He felt Nick's smile as he plundered, all of his focus on the man whose weight his body seemed to recognize and welcome.

Then Nick moved.

Or, rather, he undulated, pressing against Monroe in all of the right places, and Monroe felt the growl press out of his chest when their erections rubbed together.

He'd put himself on self-imposed exile for so long that he was almost undone right from the start. His tight rein on himself started to loosen, and he felt the shift begin. Some lone strand of sense shot a warning to the rest of him that woging in front of Nick would be a really, really bad idea, and with great effort, he gently pushed Nick's torso off of his. "We need – " he groaned as Nick used that as an excuse to grind against him. "We need…" What was he going to say?

Evidently, Nick had his own ideas. "I have everything we need in my bedroom," he whispered as he tilted his head down and took Monroe's lips again. He reached down, cupping the throbbing bulge in Monroe's pants and squeezing, and all thought completely left Monroe's head.

He wasn't sure how long it took for him to register the vibrations from his phone. Even then he wanted to ignore it, but he managed to tear his lips away from Nick and gasp out, "Wait a second. My phone."

"Ignore it." Nick suggested, nipping at his neck, something Monroe had never found so arousing before. "That's why we have voicemail."

Something tugged in Monroe's mind, slowly niggling its way forward. "Hap… It might be Hap."

Nick gave him a look.

"He calls me to check in when he goes out," Monroe explained, closing his eyes a moment when his movements to get to the phone resulted in other… sensations as he rubbed against Nick.

It'd taken so long that Hap'd left a message.

"Dude, I'm calling like I promised. It's all good. I've been drinking, but I'm gonna stay here at Mark's tonight. So you just have all the fun you want with your new boy, and I'll see you tomorrow." Hanging up, Monroe found that Nick had used the time to free his hands, and he gave Monroe's butt a giant squeeze.

"Hey now!" Monroe shot to his feet, running a hand over his beard.

"I won't squeeze your butt anymore if you really don't like it," Nick said.

"I liked it way too much," Monroe mumbled, hazarding a look at the younger man.

Nick lay boneless on the sofa, lips swollen, pupils blown. Monroe could smell the attraction, and it took everything he had to stop himself from grabbing the younger man and taking him right there in the living room.

But it had been too long, and Monroe knew he wanted it too much. He'd end up losing control, and there was no way that was going to work out. At all. "I have to go," he forced out.

"What?" Nick slid into a sitting position. "What did I do?"

"Too much – well, nothing. I mean I can't – it is been too long, and I am." Monroe forced himself to shut up and took a breath. "It's nothing you've done, okay? In fact, you did everything right. Too right."

Nick's confusion turned into something that resembled a pout. "Let me guess. It's not me, it's you."

"I'm not good at this stuff," Monroe tried to explain, waving a hand between them.

"You seemed to be doing quite well," Nick said.

Monroe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "I have to go right now before – "

"Before what?" The anticipatory look was back on Nick's face, and it looked way too good on him.

Monroe groaned again and tried not to run for the door. "Thanks for everything. Um, the dinner and the fruit."

He was down the stairs and out of the building seconds later. He knew it was the coward's way out, but sometimes the cowards were the only ones left standing in the aftermath.

He didn't remember that he'd forgotten his stuff until he was back home.


	4. Chapter 4

"I told you that he's hard to get to know," Rosalee reminded him as she licked her vanilla ice cream cone.

"I didn't know you meant in the biblical sense," Nick complained, slumped in a chair across the table. "I thought you meant talking about wetting the bed when he was eight or why he thinks he's not good with people."

Rosalee chuckled. "We didn't date for very long, so we never even got past kissing." She threw him an arch look. "The fact that he was all over you on your first date probably says something."

"What're we talking about?" Hank slid into the chair beside Rosalee, whipped cream clinging precariously on top of two scoops of chocolate ice cream on his cone.

"Nick and Monroe's dinner," Rosalee said, eyeballing Hank's creation. "How did you get them to do that?"

Nick tuned out Hank's attempt at explaining – to a girl he liked – how he flirted with the girl behind the counter every time he came into the store. Instead he chose to go over yet again the night before.

He'd remained on the sofa after Monroe's abrupt departure, totally confused. He knew he hadn't imagined that Monroe had been enjoying it at the time, but as he thought back, Nick realized that Monroe had repeatedly voiced objections, words that Nick had continuously disregarded. Horrified that he'd somehow forced himself on Monroe, he'd called Juliette.

"Do you know what time it is?" Juliette asked, having to shout over the noise in the background.

"It's Friday night, and you're at a party," Nick shot back. "Is Rosalee there?"

"Wait – isn't this your dinner date night with Monroe?"

"I'll tell you about it later," Nick promised, "but right now, I really need to talk to Rosalee."

"She's back at the apartment studying. Let me give you her number."

Nick'd absently thanked his ex and called Rosalee, who promised to meet him the next afternoon so they could sit down and talk about it.

Of course, Hank had heard about the meeting and invited himself along. Nick didn't delude himself that Hank was worried about him. Sure, they were friends, but they were also guys; Hank's appearance was more for Rosalee than it was for Nick.

"Nick!" Rosalee said, her tone making it clear that it hadn't been the first time she'd called it.

"Sorry," Nick offered.

She smiled at him. "So I called Monroe to get his take on things – "

"I thought he didn't have a phone," Nick said.

"He has a house phone, an old-school one with the receiver attached to the phone with a cord."

"Where did he find one of those?" Hank asked.

Rosalee shrugged. "No idea. Anyway, he wasn't very forthcoming. He said that he knew he shouldn't have tempted himself that way."

Nick sat up a little straighter. If he'd been tempted, then maybe Nick hadn't forced himself on Monroe after all.

"So Nick was a temptation," Hank said, mulling it over. "That's good, right?"

"Who knows with Monroe," Rosalee said. "He doesn't feel like he deserves good things."

"Like maybe he did something terrible when he was young and now feels like he has pay penance?"

"I have no idea," Rosalee said, shrugging. "He never really talked about his past with me."

Nick got a thought. "He and Hap grew up together, right?"

"You planning on pumping Hap for information?" Rosalee hazarded a guess.

"Have any better ideas?" Nick asked.

She shrugged. "Make sure you have plenty of beer."

"Hey, I know what this is!" Hap said suddenly, lowering his beer.

"You do?" Hank asked warily.

With Hank and Wu's help, Nick had come up with a pretty simple plan to corner Hap. Late Friday night, he and Wu had 'accidentally' run into Hap (thanks to some intel from Rosalee and Juliette) and then proceeded to suddenly get the idea to invite him to their place that Saturday under the guise of Nick's first attempt at Hap's Super Nachos. They added a bit about the beer and a football game, and Hap was in. To be honest, Hap'd pretty much been dancing around excitedly as soon as they'd mentioned the food.

"You're trying to figure out Monroe's recipe for the nachos!"

Exchanging a quick glance with Hank, Nick walked to the kitchen and came out with a sheet of paper. "Monroe wrote it down for me, so I don't think it's a state secret."

"Oh," Hap said, sitting back on the sofa. "I guess that's all right then."

"Did I miss the food?" Wu asked, walking in and tossing his backpack on the floor by the door.

"We were waiting for you, actually," Nick said, returning to the kitchen. He sat Monroe's instructions on the counter next to the large platter Wu's mom had donated once she'd heard about Nick's cooking attempt.

As he built the dish, Nick thought back to Wednesday, when he had managed to finagle Monroe's address from Rosalee and waited almost an hour for Monroe to come home – his last effort before hunting down Hap.

All Nick knew about that part of town was that it was considered the poorer section, and he understood why as he drove past houses with sagging porches and peeling paint. The front lawns had patches of dead grass, a few with rusty cars resting on cinder blocks.

But that wasn't all he noticed. He spotted gardens running along the side yards and peeking from the backyards, bicycles – while not shiny and new, still obviously used – leaning against the front stairs. The area might be poor, but the people who lived there still seemed to have a sense of pride.

He'd almost driven past Monroe's house, but a glint off stained glass in a door caught his attention, and he saw the house number – the "7" hanging upside down to resemble an "L" – faded but still visible on the front of the house. He pulled into the drive, right behind Monroe's car, a rare spot of color in the middle of the dingy neighborhood.

After he'd parked and knocked, he took a closer look at the small piece stained glass, wondering about the significance of the – was that a wolf?

Monroe opened the door, his eyes traveling from Nick's feet to his face. So many emotions passed quickly over his face that Nick only managed to catch a few, surprise and panic but most importantly, pleasure among them.

"I brought your stuff back," he said, gesturing toward the backpack slung over his shoulder. "I really wanted to keep those knives, but Hank's making me return them."

Monroe's hand twitched a little. "Thanks. I'm sorry I ran ou-"

"No," Nick said, hand out in an aborted attempt to touch. "I'm sorry. I pushed, and I made you uncomfortable."

A small smile flittered across Monroe's face. "I'm a grown man; I can handle a little pressure."

"But I don't want you to feel pressured by me."

Monroe stepped forward, then stopped. "I just –" He took a deep breath. "The pressure – " He stopped again, clearly searching for the right words.

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught Nick's attention, and he turned his head just in time to see the curtains in the house next door settle. "Why don't we take this inside? I'm sure your neighbors are nice, but I'm guessing that they already know more about your business than you'd like."

Another hesitation before Monroe's shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "Okay." He pulled open the door but held out his arm, blocking Nick's entrance. "The place isn't really set up for visitors. I mean, Hap and I don't need much, so…"

"Monroe," Nick said gently, "I don't care about the house."

"Hmm," Monroe said, obviously unconvinced, but he dropped his arm.

Nick walked inside and tried not to show his surprise. He'd thought his apartment was shabby, but Monroe's house was a hovel.

Just like the neighborhood, the area was well kempt; it just showed signs of poverty. The inside of the house was clean, but the furnishings – which were a sofa, a chair, and a lamp without a lampshade in the living room – looked faded, as if they'd been outside in the sun for quite a while before being dragged inside.

Choosing to focus on Monroe, Nick turned to find the man chewing on his lip, staring at the sofa. He took Monroe's wrist, making sure to get the other man's attention. "I meant what I said. Obviously, I'm interested in you, but I don't want to force myself on you."

"I think it was fairly obvious that I was as much into what we were doing as you were," Monroe said, wry tone to his voice.

"Yeah, but you kept saying that we shouldn't have been doing it. I need to learn to listen more and not shove you into things."

Monroe sighed, stared at the ground for a moment. "I like you, like a lot, but I'm not good for you."

"Is it the age difference? Because you aren't really that much older than I am –"

"No, that doesn't matter."

"Is it because you're a senior and I'm a junior? I mean, I know it's kind of assuming stuff, but if we're still together after you graduate – "

Monroe huffed out a surprised laugh. "That's… well, that's definitely putting the cart before the horse, but not what I – "

"It can't be the rivalry." Monroe gave him a blank look, so Nick continued. "Between GN – " he pointed a hand toward Monroe " – and JT." He turned the hand and pointed it toward his chest.

"Of course not!"

"Then what is it?" Nick asked, sounding more plaintive than he would've liked. But he hated not being able to put the pieces together, especially when as far as he could tell, he and Monroe could be pretty awesome together.

"It's me, okay? For some reason, you think that I'm this good person, but I'm really not. I mean, I try, and some days I think that maybe… but it doesn't change who I am or what I've done."

Nick thought a second. "So these bad things you've done in the past. Are you still doing them now?"

Monroe looked horrified. "Hell no!"

Nick shrugged. "Okay then."

Monroe looked confused. It was adorable. _He_ was adorable. "So, um, we're good?"

Nick smiled at him. "Absolutely. We've established that for some reason you think you deserve to be punished for the past and that it doesn't matter to me."

Monroe blinked. "You don't under – "

"What I understand is what I know. I know who you are _now_ , that you are a good person _now_. I know that you've spent the last three years here helping people, cooking for them, and taking care of Hap, which is probably a challenge all by itself."

Monroe smiled faintly. "Hap's… an adventure."

"So, okay then."

The smile faded. "Okay." Monroe's shoulders dropped slightly.

"Want to have dinner Friday night?"

"What?"

"Dinner. Friday. My treat."

"But you heard what I said about – "

" – and you heard what I said. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm pretty determined."

Monroe remained silent for a few seconds as he seemed to absorb the information. "So, once again, it doesn't matter what I say?"

Nick sighed. "Shit. I came to apologize for forcing myself on you, and I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

Monroe shrugged.

Shit. Shit. Shit. He was just making things worse. "Look. I'm sorry." He pulled the backpack off his shoulder and leaned it against the sofa. "Here's your stuff. I won't force myself on you anymore."

"Nick –"

For the first time since they'd met, Nick didn't want to look Monroe in the eyes as he slipped past and walked out the door.

Hank and Wu had found him a few hours and several beers later bellied up at the Rat's bar, despondently fiddling with the tab on the can in front of him.

"So I'm guessing the visit didn't go well," Hank said, motioning for two more beers from the bartender as he and Wu sat on either side of Nick.

"I pushed too hard," Nick confessed. He'd always thought of his single-mindedness as a positive, his way of mowing over stumbling blocks; he wasn't sure when it'd morphed into a need to impose his will over others. He looked between his friends. "Do I force my ideas on you guys?"

"You're strong-willed," Wu said, "but Hank and I can hold our own if it's something important."

"Yeah," Hank agreed. "If he can't handle it, maybe Monroe isn't the right fit for you."

"Funny, he didn't seem like someone who'd have a problem saying no to you," Wu said, taking the beer but ignoring the bartender until Hank sighed and handed the man some money.

"Right?" Nick said. "It didn't feel like I was forcing him into something with me as much as pushing him to do something he wanted but didn't think he deserved. He said he liked me a lot."

"Wow," Hank took a pull from his beer. "I didn't expect you to quit so easily."

Nick sighed. "Just because he likes me doesn't mean that he necessarily wants to be in a relationship with me."

"What else did he say?" Wu asked.

"That he wasn't good for me, that he'd done bad things in the past."

"So it's not like he doesn't want a relationship with you," Wu started.

"It's that he doesn't think he's worthy of it or something," Hank finished. He grinned at Nick. "That man I met the other night at Rosie's was besotted."

Nick couldn't stop his small smile. "Besotted?"

Wu snorted. "If you're confused about what that looks like, just check Hank out when Rosalee walks into a room."

Nick chuckled at Hank's weak protest.

They sat in silence, drinking their beers, until Wu finally said, "So… Hap?"

Nick looked at Hank, who shrugged. "Hap."

So here they were, Hap in their apartment for beer and the nachos that Nick was bringing to the coffee table.

"These look fantastic!" Hank grabbed the small stack of paper plates and handed them to the others before reaching in for a handful. "This is pretty… messy," he said as he dripped the food to his plate.

"Yeah," Nick admitted, grabbing the instructions and rereading each step.

"Still good, though," Hap said around a mouthful of food.

"Hmm," Wu nodded, chewing vigorously.

Nick stared at the platter. "It is too liquidy." He pointed to the bottom, where there was obviously a pool of… something. "There's too much water or juice at the bottom."

Hap took a swipe at the liquid with his finger. "Tastes like meat. Oh, hey! I remember this one time, when I was so hungry I couldn't wait and went in to grab some chips, Monroe was doing this thing, said he was draining the beans? Draining the meat?" He looked at Wu. "Can you drain meat?"

Wu shrugged and took another large bite.

"It's still good," Hank said. "Can you grab more plates?" Hank asked. "We'll put them under these to shore them up a little." He held out his messy hands.

Nick handed out more paper plates and slid some of the nachos onto his own before sitting on the desk chair he'd dragged across from the three men on the sofa.

"It must be pretty cool living with a guy who cooks like this," Wu said.

"Yeah, Monroe's awesome. He's a little too serious, you know? He always worries about stuff."

"You two were friends before college, right?" Hank asked.

"Yeah, we grew up together."

"And you both end up at the same college. That's a pretty big coincidence." Wu grabbed a napkin from the pile Nick had put on the edge of the coffee table and wiped around his mouth. "Nick, this is the best thing I've eaten since Rosalee and Juliette's party."

"I wasn't even planning on going to college. I mean, I like the parties and everything," Hap said, leaning toward Wu like he was imparting a big secret. "I'm not really all that smart."

"Join the club," Wu said blithely.

Nick briefly caught Hank's eyes. Wu frequently acted like he was at JT for the parties, but only a few people knew that the reason he was able to party so much was because he was brilliant. Only Nick and Hank knew that he'd been offered full rides to quite a few established colleges and universities but decided on JT because he wanted to remain close to his family.

"Monroe's like, really smart, but he said that he wasn't gonna leave me behind, that we had to get out of there or we never would."

Hap settled into a melancholy silence that made Nick uncomfortable. "Another beer?"

Hap brightened. "That'd be awesome!"

Nick ended up having a fun time hanging out with Hap and his roommates. By unspoken consent, they agreed to stop pumping Hap for information and just chill for the night. They pulled Wu's television out of his room and watched a college football game while they finished the nachos. Wu's mom had made them a strawberry pie, which they simply cut into four large pieces and finished in record time.

During one of the commercials, Hap pulled out his phone and started texting. "I gotta check in with Monroe."

"I thought he didn't have a cell phone," Wu said, plunking down fresh beers in front of all of them.

"He's pretty old school. He's meeting with Bud, this guy who works with him at the garden, and I have Bud's number."

"It's Saturday night, and he's working?" Wu's incredulous voice made Nick laugh.

"Contrary to what you think, partying on Saturdays isn't a college requirement," Nick said, dodging the stray chip Wu tossed his direction.

"Yeah, Monroe doesn't really party. He likes being in control."

"He keeps pretty close tabs?" Hank asked.

Hap shrugged a shoulder, his fingers never pausing. "He worries about me. He's been looking out for me since forever."

Nick felt a warmth in his chest. Monroe might think of himself as this bad guy, but everything he did proved the exact opposite. "You wanna crash here tonight? The sofa's pretty comfortable." It had to be more comfortable than that terrible sofa in Hap and Monroe's house.

"Dude, that'd be excellent!" Hap's fingers started moving again.

A few commercials later, Hap's phone buzzed, and he looked at the message. "Shit. I forgot that I promised I'd help Monroe with this thing tomorrow morning." He looked up. "He's gonna pick me up in a couple of hours."

Nick made the appropriate disappointed face, wondering if being happy about seeing Monroe again made him a bad person.

Later that evening, Nick stood next to Hap outside of Nick's apartment building, waiting for Monroe.

"You don't have to hang out here with me," Hap said.

"It's no problem," Nick said, zipping up his jacket before shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

Hap shot him a sly smile. "Wanna say hi to Monroe, huh?"

"He'll kill me if he drives up and you aren't here," Nick said, which was partially true. They'd been standing there for less than ten minutes, and three different groups of people had invited Hap to come party with them. Nick was fairly certain that Hap would've agreed to each and every one of them if Nick hadn't been standing right beside him. He looked over at Hap, dressed in jeans, short sleeved t-shirt, and absolutely no jacket at all and shook his head. "How're you not freezing your ass off right now?"

"Monroe and I run a little hotter than – " he shot Nick another glance " – most people."

Nick noticed the pause but was distracted when he saw Monroe's car. "Here he is."

Monroe pulled up, surprising Nick by turning off his engine and getting out.

Hap paused with the passenger side door open. "Monroe?"

Monroe didn't spare Hap a glance as he rounded the front of the car and headed toward Nick. "Get in the car. I'll be right back."

Nick wasn't used to seeing such an intent look on Monroe's face – especially not centered on him – a determination and focus that alternately excited and scared him a little. He found himself backing up slowly. "Hey?" he said, his voice going up a little at the end.

Monroe remained silent, taking Nick's arm and opening up the apartment building door, pushing Nick inside and against the wall just inside.

Nick stilled, wondering if this were what prey felt like when being cornered by a predator.

"Are you sure about this?"

Nick felt a little spark of hope but didn't want to assume anything. "About what exactly?"

"You. Me. This."

"Absolutely," Nick said without hesitation.

One step had Monroe's body pressing Nick's into the wall as Monroe kissed Nick.

But this wasn't any kiss. This was Monroe staking a claim, setting Nick's body on fire.

It could have lasted thirty seconds or thirty minutes. Nick only knew he was wrecked when Monroe pulled away.

"I'll call you," Monroe promised before turning away, walking through the door, getting back into the car, and driving away.

As he slid to the floor, Nick felt absurdly pleased that Monroe had been just as out of breath as he was.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Holy shit, Monroe, what was that?" Hap asked.

"Seatbelt," Monroe reminded Hap as he tried to keep his claws from tearing the steering wheel cover.

"That right there was totally hot," Hap said, struggling with his seatbelt, "and I'm not even into guys."

His blood still felt on fire, and while his mind kept telling him this whole thing was a bad idea, the rest of him was singing a resounding "YES!"

He'd been a little pissed off when Hap had told him about heading over to Nick's, his first thought being that Nick was going to try to either pump Hap for information or use it as another way to get to Monroe. The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized that he was jealous that Hap was going to be the one spending time with Nick.

Indecisiveness wasn't a trait Monroe had ever associated with himself, and he wasn't about to start now. So while he and Bud had worked on winterizing the garden and taking care of the plants they were going to keep inside for the winter, he'd made some decisions.

Sure, this potential thing with Nick was probably going to explode in his face eventually, but was that a good reason for not getting involved at all? He and Rosalee didn't work out, but they were still good friends, and he didn't regret the good times. Angelina was a totally different story, but Angelina was a special case in every way. Still, even with her and some of their more questionable actions, he had some good memories.

So the question was, was trying for something with Nick worth the potential fallout?

He pictured Nick, those large earnest eyes, the full bottom lip, that adorable smile and the hair that fell over his forehead. He remembered how much fun Nick had been with his friends, what a good time he'd had when he and Nick had cooked together.

A surge of wantneed swept over him, and all he could think of was plastering himself over the other man, marking Nick as his, shoving himself so deep inside that he could no longer tell where he stopped and Nick began.

It'd taken all of his newfound discipline to keep from tearing Nick's clothes off and having him right there on the sidewalk.

It took him a few minutes before he realized that Hap was staring at him, mouth open. "What?"

"I knew you liked him, but I didn't know you liked him that much."

As he drove through JT's strip of bars and clubs, Monroe had to focus on not hitting any of the students so he couldn't look at Hap. "I'm still in control."

Hap snorted. "You looked at him like he was a porterhouse steak on a plate." Hap laughed. "A raw porterhouse steak. And you're a vegetarian. I'm scandalized!"

Monroe sighed, his brain reminding him of all of the reasons why this was a bad idea. "Yeah, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"But that's why we're here, right? What's the point of trying to be better if we're not allowed to be happy?"

Surprised, Monroe almost hit the drunken coed who fell off the curb and right in front of the car. Waiting for her friends to pull her back to her feet and to safety, he turned to Hap. "That's pretty smart."

Hap smiled smugly before nodding to a couple of guys on the sidewalk. "I didn't get into college by accident, you know."

Monroe laughed. "I guess not."

Monroe called Nick the next day, and they started spending most of their free time together. Nick quickly realized that Monroe's living arrangements were more of an indication of his financial restrictions rather than the choice of an upperclassman to live in a small house, so instead of going out to restaurants and bars, they spent a lot of time doing free things like hiking and or just hanging out at Nick's. Monroe still felt uncomfortable about having visitors at his place, so Nick happily let his apartment be where they all hung out.

Monroe found that he enjoyed spending time with Hank and Wu and that he and Hap somehow managed to fit in with them pretty easily.

Monroe's lack of a cell phone caused Nick no small amount of frustration, but he soon had the numbers for Monroe's house, the nursery, and the various people Monroe spent time with throughout the day programmed into his own. He'd also had to become very familiar with Monroe's schedule, which wasn't difficult, because it turned out that Monroe was very much a creature of habit.

They'd agreed to go slow – more Monroe's idea than Nick's – so they each found themselves taking longer, and sometimes colder, showers than ever before. Hank and Wu had taken to slipping into the bathroom right before Nick so they wouldn't have to wait for him. Hap just shrugged and peed in the backyard, which is what he preferred anyway.

Time passed quickly, and one night a week before Thanksgiving break, Monroe made pizza for Nick and Hank while the three of them pretended to study in the apartment living room with the television playing in the background. Because he spent so much time there, Monroe had taken over the kitchen, and while he'd never admit it, sometimes Nick would walk in there just to feel Monroe's presence.

"Pizza's up!" Monroe called. "Who wants what?"

"Meat lovers!" Hank and Nick called.

"Why'd I even ask?" Monroe muttered.

"We heard that," Hank shouted.

"And?" Monroe challenged, carrying three plates in his arms like a waiter.

"And… that pizza smells awesome! Let me help you." Hank took two plates and gave one to Nick.

They settled on the sofa, Nick more against Monroe's side than in the middle, which seemed to work for all three of them.

A commercial aired with a talking turkey, and Monroe tilted his head. "That's just disturbing."

"Which reminds me. When do you need to be at the airport?" Hank asked his roommate.

Nick swallowed before saying, "I need to be there about six on Tuesday."

Hank choked. "AM?"

"Yeah. When are you leaving?"

"Same day. My flight takes off at four. PM."

"I'll take you," Monroe said offhandedly.

Nick and Hank looked at him.

"Which one of us?" Nick asked, finally.

Monroe shrugged. "Both."

"When are you leaving?" Nick asked.

"I'm not. Hap and I stay in town."

"For Thanksgiving?" Nick was a little horrified. It was only him and his Aunt Marie, but they always made time for each other for Thanksgiving and Christmas. He hated the thought of Monroe being alone.

"It's no big deal. We'll volunteer somewhere, and some of his local friends play football in the afternoon. The place is actually quite nice when no one's around."

"What about your family?" Hank asked.

Suddenly Monroe was fascinated with his pizza. "Hap and I don't really go home."

The silence was a little uncomfortable until Hank said, "you really don't mind getting Nick to the airport? Because that is way too damn early for me."

"I'm up around that time anyway." Monroe said.

"He gets up at five to do his Pilates," Nick said, wondering how he even knew that. It was his turn to focus on his pizza so he could ignore Hank's amused gaze.

"It's a great way to begin the morning," Monroe said, warming to the topic. "Not only is it good physical exercise, but it helps me start my day with a clear focus."

"But it's five. In the _morning_ ," Hank protested. "I don't even usually get to bed until after one."

"If you ever change your mind and want to work out with me, let me know," Monroe said.

"Don't hold your breath," Hank muttered, making Nick laugh.

M

Monroe enjoyed playing chauffeur for Nick and Hank. He'd thought it was going to be tough saying goodbye to Nick, but he'd known for a fact that Nick had only gotten an hour of sleep, so Monroe wasn't surprised that the younger man could barely string three words together when he'd slid into the car.

"Where's your bag?"

Nick muttered something, opening up the door and grabbing the black duffle he'd forgotten on the sidewalk. He'd looked so pathetic, head resting against the bag, eyes closed, that Monroe just wanted to hug him. Instead, he shoved Nick's bag in the backseat and reached over to put on Nick's seatbelt.

He grabbed the coffee he'd made before he left his house and held it out. "Drink this."

"Good coffee?" Nick reached out with both hands, grabbing it and taking a large swallow.

Because he was responsible for his own tuition and pretty much paid for renting the house all by himself, Monroe had to be careful about his money, choosing to spend it on things like good coffee and organic food that he couldn't grow. Nowhere did Nick appreciate that more than with Monroe's coffee, and it had become a running joke with them that Monroe was required to share his 'good coffee' anytime they met before two pm.

The drop-off was also anticlimactic, with Nick fairly rolling out of the car once they'd arrived. He'd almost forgotten his bag a second time, and Monroe quickly gave it to one of the skycaps. He refused to leave until he was sure that Nick was checked in and had everything he needed. And if he had to woge at a Mellifer working at the ticket counter, it was all for a good cause, he told himself.

Hank was easier, but he was also awake. He cracked jokes, thanked Monroe for the ride so that Wu could be with his family. Then things became a little more serious.

"So, how're things with Nick?"

Surprised at the direction of the conversation, Monroe said, "Good – unless there is something I don't know about?"

"He seems happy, so I'm happy for him."

"Okay?" Monroe got the feeling that Hank had a specific purpose in steering the conversation this direction, but he wasn't sure if Hank wanted to warn him away or express his support of the relationship.

"But here's the thing. Nick's like a kid with his feelings. He'll get burned by a stove but can't help reaching out again just to see if it's still hot."

Monroe was getting more confused, so he remained silent.

"He doesn't have much of a filter, so his emotions just flow out of him. It's a brave way to live, but it also sets him up for a lot of hurt."

"You think I'm going to hurt him?"

"I think he's all in with you, but I get the feeling that you're standing there with your hand on the doorknob."

Monroe opened his mouth to tell Hank that he was wrong, but he suddenly realized that it was the truth. "I'm not used to, um – "

"Sharing your feelings? I get it, I really do. But you gotta open that door sometime, and frankly, if you have Nick standing on the other side, you're a lucky man."

And just like that, Hank started talking about his plans for the holiday.

Monroe's last duty as a shuttle driver was with Rosalee, whom he'd been driving to the bus station for every holiday since they started dating. Hers was the simplest trip; she only lived a few hours away, and she didn't have to make her travel arrangements months in advance.

Besides, it gave them a chance to catch up, which Monroe enjoyed. Usually.

"So, how are things going with Nick?"

"Good, they're good." He cleared his throat.

"Uh huh. What's wrong?"

Monroe sputtered for a moment. "Nothing's wrong. Didn't I just say things were good?"

"Yeah, and then you cleared your throat, which means that something's going on."

Monroe had no idea he did that. He flashed her a look before returning his attention to the road. "I do that?"

She laughed. "What is going on?"

"Nick's this great guy, but maybe I'm leading him on."

He felt her shift until she faced him. "How do you mean?"

"It's not like it's ever going to work. "

"Why not?"

He snorted. "You know what Nick is, and you know what I am."

"Yeah," Rosalee said slowly. "So what?"

"A Blutbad and a human?"

"I've heard many cases of Wesen marrying and leading happy lives with humans."

"Do you know of any firsthand?" He allowed the silence for a few seconds before snorting. "Old wives' tales. It is always someone's cousin who knows of this happy couple, isn't it? No one has ever seen it with their own eyes."

"That doesn't mean it can't happen," Rosalee insisted.

"What do you know about Blutbad mating rituals?"

"I've read a lot…"

"We're rough, Rosalee. We destroy furniture! We draw blood! I'd tear Nick apart!"

"So you two haven't…"

Monroe shook his head. "We're taking it slow."

"Wow. In college terms, you're positively glacial."

Monroe threw her a look, one that'd once frightened a Schakal so badly, he'd peed a little. Rosalee only laughed.

He was obviously losing his touch.

"If you don't think that you and Nick should be together, then why are you and Nick together?"

Monroe asked himself that pretty much everyday. "I guess… somewhere in the back of my head…"

"… you hope that maybe you and Nick are the exception to the rule?"

Monroe shrugged.

Rosalee leaned toward him. "You already are."

End note: I know Monroe's vegan on the show, but I've mentioned earlier that I'm not a cook. I'd already written him as a vegetarian, so darn it, he's going to eat cheese pizza in this story!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Sunday night, Nick walked out of the airport, looking for Monroe's yellow car. It took a few seconds for him to realize that the annoying honking was Hank and Wu trying to get his attention. He squelched his disappointment with a smile and hefted his bag over his shoulder.

"How was your trip?" Hank asked as he pulled into traffic.

"It was good," Nick said, still a little out of breath after fighting Wu for the passenger seat. "Well, the usual," he amended.

"Which means that you and your aunt spent about two hours together," Wu said.

"But it was a good two hours," Nick pointed out with a smile. His aunt tried her best, but if she'd wanted to be a parent, she would've had children of her own. As a kid still trying to come to grips with the loss of his parents, he'd had a difficult time understanding her and his role in her life. But one of the benefits of growing up was that now he could love her and appreciate that she always did her best for him. They'd adopted a habit that worked for them, and he was thankful that he had her. "What about you two?"

"Mom made way too much food – "

" – so we're good at home for the next few days," Hank cut in.

" – and Amber's dating some new walking sack of hormones from her school."

"She's in high school. At that age, they're all pretty much walking sacks of hormones. The goal is for her not to get pregnant."

"No, the goal is for her to keep her legs completely closed, thank you very much."

Hank laughed. "You really think that's going to happen in this day and age?"

"Chaste until marriage, my friend," Wu said sagely.

"Is that what's going on with you?" Nick asked, grinning.

"So, Hank! How was your vacation?" Wu asked, deliberately changing the subject and turning all of his attention to Hank.

"It was just mom and I. Her current boyfriend had to go be with his kids, make the rounds."

"The rounds?" Wu asked.

"He has three baby mommas," Hank said, tossing Nick a look.

'Too bad you didn't get to meet him," Nick said.

"Oh, I made a point of meeting him before I left."

"It's gonna be hard to become a cop with a warrant for your arrest in the books," Nick reminded him.

"I didn't touch the guy."

"If you do it right, you don't need to," Nick and Wu said together before they all started laughing.

Nick glanced out the window. "This isn't the way home."

"It sure isn't," Hank said mildly.

"We doing something?" Nick didn't recall making plans with them before he left.

"Not us," Wu said, sitting back.

"Okay, I'm confused."

"All will be revealed," Wu said, trying to sound mysterious.

Hank just rolled his eyes.

"So you're really not going to tell me?" Nick asked after a few seconds of silence.

"We'll be there in a couple of minutes," Hank promised.

The familiar worn-down houses perked Nick's attention, and suddenly he knew where they were going. His heart started pounding.

"Look at how excited he is!" Wu said, laughing.

"You're just jealous, because you don't have a regular hookup," Hank told him.

"Neither does he," Wu said. "Remember, they're 'taking it slow'." He used his fingers to quote the phrase.

"Doesn't matter," Nick said. He felt his friends' stares and amended, "Maybe it _does_ matter, but Monroe's worth the wait."

"So sweet!" Wu teased.

"If Monroe finally gives in, we'll never see Nick again."

"He does cook better than any of us," Wu mused.

"But living out here will add at least fifteen minutes to his commute time," Hank added.

"And he'd be living with Hap too."

"Hap's a good guy," Nick said.

"Yes he is," Hank said. "But hanging out with someone and living with him are two different things. Have you learned nothing from living with Wu?"

"Exactl – wait, what?" Wu asked as Nick and Hank laughed.

"It's up here on the right," Nick said, pointing toward Monroe's house. Then he had a thought. "He does know I'm coming, right?"

"This was his idea," Hank said.

Nick'd told them about Monroe's reluctance to have Nick see his house, so they were prepared for the rundown neighborhood. But they pulled up to the house and found it covered with… "Are those lights?"

"I think they're Christmas lights," Wu said. "It'll be easier to tell once it gets dark."

"Huh," Nick said. "It didn't look like that last time I was here."

"It wasn't this close to Christmas the last time you were here," Hank reminded him.

The door opened, and a smiling Monroe walked up to the car, wearing the brightest and ugliest Christmas sweater Nick had ever seen. "Welcome back!"

Nick pulled himself out of the car, grabbed Monroe by the neck, and pulled him down for a kiss, neighbors be damned.

If his response were any indication, Monroe had missed him as much as Nick had missed Monroe. His arms pulled Nick until their bodies were flush, his lips devouring Nick, his tongue invading Nick's mouth.

Eventually Nick came up for air, gasping as he laughed into Monroe's neck. "I guess you missed me?"

Monroe's chest rumbled with an answering chuckle. "I guess you missed me back."

"I guess you both better go inside before someone calls the cops," Wu shouted, now in the passenger seat of Hank's car.

His arms still filled with Monroe, Nick turned toward the car and laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days.

"We'll see you later," Hank called, waving as he drove away.

"Shit, my bag," Nick said.

Amusement in his voice, Monroe said, "I am amazed you didn't manage to lose it before now. It's down by your feet."

"Oh." Nick grinned up at Monroe, his hand trailing one of Monroe's eyebrows. "I guess I really did miss you."

Monroe snorted, then pressed his forehead against Nick's. "Longest holiday ever." He took a deep breath and pulled away slightly. "We really should get inside." He effortlessly picked up Nick's bag with one hand, the other wrapped around Nick's wrist as if he didn't want to let go, which of course was absolutely okay with Nick.

They walked inside, and Nick stopped, astonished.

The place had transformed into a winter wonderland. The sofa – and a large chair – had matching green covers and had been placed on the right side of the room, the left now filled with a huge decorated Christmas tree. Christmas music played in the background, interrupted occasionally by, what was that? "Is that a train?"

"Oh yeah," Monroe said excitedly, pointing upwards. "Just wait."

Nick looked up at the ceiling and then noticed a shelf of some kind running along the wall. A sudden movement from the kitchen revealed a train hurling itself around the shelf, from the kitchen along the top of the living room, to return to the kitchen, every so often giving off a little toot.

"Monroe loves Christmas, like a lot," Hap said, pulling on a t-shirt as he clomped down the stairs, whose railings had been wrapped with red and green ribbon.

"I see that," Nick said faintly.

"He decorates The Shithole every year."

"Hap," Monroe sighed.

"What?" Hap said, hitching up his pants to meet the t-shirt. He looked at Nick. "Everyone thinks 'shithole' is bad, but we're taking it back, changing the meaning from negative to positive."

"Actually, Hap, that's not really working."

"You just wait and see," Hap promised, pointing to each of them in turn before he headed into the kitchen.

Monroe rolled his eyes and turned to Nick. "How was your flight? Did you eat? Are you hungry?"

Nick laughed. "The trip was fine, and I'm not really hungry right now. I'd love a shower, though, if that's okay."

"Sure," Monroe said. "Follow me." He led Nick upstairs, the holiday music almost covering the creaking noises coming from each step.

Monroe pointed to the first closed door on the left. "This is Hap's room. Don't go in there unless it's an emergency, and make sure you wear a hazmat suit."

Nick laughed, although he did make a mental note.

The first door on the right was the bathroom, and Monroe paused, sniffing at the closed door, before he continued to the second door on the right. He opened it to reveal the largest bed Nick thought he'd ever seen. He walked up to it, sat on it and bounced a few times, appreciating the firmness. "This is quite a bed."

Monroe scratched at his cheek, smiling faintly. "I worked an extra job for almost a year to be able to afford it."

Nick eyeballed the size and then looked at the doorframe. "How'd they get it in here? Forget that, how are you going to get it out?"

"Why do you think I still live here?" Monroe asked lightly, stepping inside and kicking the door closed. He dropped Nick's bag, walking toward Nick slowly, an intent gleam in his eyes.

It was a look Nick had never seen before but one that he decided he liked immensely.

"So I've been thinking," Monroe said, towering over Nick. "I'm tired of taking it slow."

Nick released a huge breath and smiled up at Monroe. "About time."

Nick didn't end up taking that shower until after midnight, throwing on some sweats and heading into the kitchen for a quick snack before he joined Monroe back in bed.

"Hey," Hap said from the darkness of the sofa, lighted only by the dim glow of the television.

"Hey," Nick said, hoping he didn't sound as startled as he felt as he changed direction and sat in the chair. "I was just going to find something to eat."

"Monroe cooks when he's sad, and he missed you a lot, so we have tons of food."

Nick felt ridiculously pleased. "I missed him too."

"Yeah, I could tell," Hap said, grinning. "That Christmas music can only cover up so much noise."

Nick fought against the flush rising up on his face. "Sorry about that."

Hap laughed. "It is about time, man! Monroe deserves to be happy, and you make him happy, so it's all good. I was worried when he didn't go with us for Thanksgiving – "

"Wait. I thought you two were spending the holiday here."

"We were, but then my two buddies Hap-San and Bohlale decided to take a road trip and invited us along. Monroe didn't want to go – he's not always that sociable – but he told me to go. I just got back about an hour before you showed up."

"So he spent Thanksgiving alone?" Nick remembered calling Monroe on Thanksgiving, but he'd been so wrapped up in trying to make sure that Monroe didn't clue in to how miserable he was that he hadn't noticed how Monroe had been acting.

Hap shrugged. "It's better than being back home." He said it so matter-of-fact that it made Nick's heart hurt a little.

"Are you going to stay here for Christmas too?"

"Not me," Hap said. "We had such a good time that Hap-San, Bohlale, and I're planning another road trip. Monroe said it'd give him time to take down all of the decorations."

After a few seconds of staring blankly at the television, Nick pushed himself out of the chair. "Want anything?"

"That'd be great!" Hap said happily.

Nick opened the fridge and stopped, stunned at the amount of covered dishes that filled the shelves. "What do you want?"

"Just throw a few things on a plate. You don't even have to heat anything up," Hap said back. "Everything Monroe makes is good, even if he's a vegetarian."

Shrugging, Nick put a few random containers on the counter, wondering absently about all of the scratches on the wooden fixture. He found the plates and utensils without much trouble and dished out some hearty portions of what looked like mashed potatoes, yams, and some kind of casserole onto three plates.

In no time at all, he was backing into Monroe's room with two full plates.

"Hey," Monroe said, his voice scratchy, as he rubbed at his eyes. He looked so adorable that Nick was tempted to forget the food and dive back into bed.

"Hey," he said, clearing his voice a little. "I brought food."

"Awesome!" Monroe pushed himself up until his back rested against the headboard.

"I would've heated it up, but I didn't see the microwave."

"We don't have one," Monroe said, taking a plate and a fork.

Nick settled himself beside Monroe. "Why not?"

Monroe shrugged in the way that Nick was beginning to realize meant that he didn't want to talk about his money issues. "We heat things with pots and pans."

"Going old school?"

Monroe smiled at Nick's familiar teasing. "You know it."

They ate and chatted about their vacations and their upcoming schedules until they heard a knock at the door.

"You two decent?"

"Come on in, Hap," Monroe said, pulling the blankets a little further up his chest.

Hap stuck his head around the door, grinning. "I'm heading out for a study session with Erica and Tomas."

Surprised, Nick asked, "You're studying?"

Monroe laughed, but Hap looked a little affronted. "I study."

"Sorry," Nick said, realizing he'd been a bit rude.

"No problem, brah," Hap said, happy again. "Want me to take those plates downstairs? If you two break them, I won't hear the end of it for days."

Nick smiled over at Monroe, who looked embarrassed.

"He loves these plates," Hap said, stepping into the room and collecting the dishes.

"Shut up, Hap," Monroe mumbled. "But thanks for taking them downstairs."

"Have a good study session!" Nick called out as Hap waved and closed the door. He let his head fall back against the backboard. "I can't believe I sounded so shocked that he was going to study."

Monroe nuzzled his neck. "He's only going because he has a crush on a girl."

"Oh," Nick said, tilting his head so Monroe could gain more access. "So I don't need to…umm."

"Need to what?" Monroe asked, wrapping an arm around Nick and in one smooth move, pulling him down and rolling on top of him so he was pressed against Nick from the chest down.

"What what?" Nick asked, moaning a little at the end as Monroe ground against him.

"What were you talking about?" Monroe resumed kissing Nick's neck.

"I was talking?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sure I can find something better to do with my mouth."

"About time you figured that out."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Monroe wasn't sure how it happened, but eventually, everyone started spending their time at his and Hap's house. At first he was kind of self conscious at the rundown look of their neighborhood, their house, their furniture, their appliances…

But no one seemed to notice.

Hank and Wu eventually brought in another sofa that they'd gotten from somewhere for free, and Juliette contributed some sort of chair made with some kind of gel inside. Monroe tried it once when he was alone and had to crawl out of it using some very ungentlemanly positions. But Juliette and Rosalee liked it, and Monroe found Hap fast asleep on it at various times, limbs hanging off at almost impossible angles. A used microwave appeared in the kitchen one day, and while Monroe didn't plan on using it, he noticed the excited chatter when the others found it.

Nick spent most weekends with Monroe, staying at his apartment closer to the campus for convenience during the weekdays.

And Hap started dating Lenore, the study group girl, who seemed to adore the ground he stumbled upon. She was smarter than he was but just as good hearted. And even better, she was a Blutbad determined to walk a path similar to Monroe and Hap.

Monroe found himself making meals for ten, eight people and an additional two servings for Hap and Wu, whose metabolisms had to be unnaturally fast.

Juliette met Renard, a senior majoring in International Relations at JT and Global Studies at GN, something none of them had ever heard of happening. Wu maintained that Renard was some sort of freak of nature, which was only reinforced by his mysterious aura and refined stature the one time they'd met him. Juliette started spending more time with him and less with them, which ended up being okay with everyone once Hank finally wore Rosalee down and she agreed to date him.

One evening the others sat in the living room studying while Nick's iPod played with the speakers he'd brought over. Most of Monroe's class work now tended to be hands-on, so he used his free time to make a salad to go with the chili that was slowly cooking on the stove while he tried not to pout at the fact that he'd been relegated to playing Christmas music only two hours a day while the others were around.

He felt arms wrap around him and leaned back into Nick's chest.

"I'll surprise you one day," Nick vowed.

Monroe smiled. He couldn't explain to Nick that he'd smelled his boyfriend before Nick even walked into the house, and he could effortlessly sense which room Nick was occupying. And of course there was the fact that the hairs on his arms rose whenever Nick drew close. The first two things were a result of who he was. The last was a result of who Nick was to him. Which turned out to be Everything.

"So I was thinking about Christmas," Nick said, his voice muffled by one of Monroe's Christmas sweaters.

"Just let me know what time you need to be at the airport," Monroe said, forcing back the part inside him that raged at his mate being so far from him for almost two weeks. The Thanksgiving long weekend had been difficult, but that'd been before Monroe had taken Nick into his bed, before their scents had merged. This time was going to be hell.

And they hadn't even talked about their plans for Winter Term.

"Actually, Aunt Marie is going to be working out of the country, so I'm going to be staying in town. I was thinking that if – _ooph!"_

M

Nick had expected Monroe to be happy that he was staying. What he hadn't expected was to be enveloped and shoved against the door to the backyard. He wasn't prepared when Monroe kissed him, but suddenly nothing mattered but getting closer to this man.

He wasn't sure what pulled them out of their fog, but he looked up to find the others standing just inside the kitchen, staring at them.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Wu asked, "So, is dinner ready?"

Nick hadn't quite spoken the truth about his aunt, but she'd seemed relieved when he'd called her with his plans to stay at school for the holiday.

"Are your friends staying in town?"

"Just one _." The most important one._ "I'll be hanging out at his house."

"I'll send you your Christmas present."

"Don't worry about it," he'd told her. "We can exchange gifts the next time we see each other."

"Okay. Be good. Be safe."

"You too."

M

The days leading up to Christmas were the best Monroe ever remembered. Wu had left for his family's house the moment his finals were over, and Hap and his friends took off soon after that. Juliette flew off to somewhere in Europe with Renard (Nick had demanded an itinerary and contact information just in case), and Nick drove Hank to the airport while Monroe took Rosalee and Lenore to the bus station. Monroe drove back to the house to pick up Nick, and they immediately went grocery shopping. Monroe made sure they got the best organic turkey and other foods he couldn't grow himself while Nick seemed to spend his time trying to sneak bags of potato chips and cookies into the cart. Monroe complained, but most of it remained in the cart as they checked out.

Once they got home, they didn't feel the need to leave. Monroe cooked, snuggling under the blanket with Nick in the living room, watching old movies when he didn't need to be in the kitchen.

Nick decided that clothes weren't necessary since it was only them, but Monroe vetoed that idea quickly, which turned out to be a good idea. Nick had met a few people in the neighborhood, but all of them seemed to stop by for short visits, most of them with plants or small gifts for Monroe, who never failed to send them back home with containers of food and snacks he'd made. Nick got the idea that this was something they did often, and he liked the idea of a community rallying around Monroe. It made him seem much less alone.

Christmas morning, Nick felt Monroe start to slide out of bed and tightened his arm around Monroe's waist. "Don't get up yet," he mumbled.

Monroe groaned, dropping a kiss on Nick's head. "I have to put the turkey in the oven."

"I'm the only one eating the turkey. We can have peanut butter and jelly for all I care."

"You say that now, but you'll complain if we sit down to a huge meal of peanut butter and jelly." Monroe said, but he curled back around Nick.

"How about I make it worth your while?" Nick curled a leg over Monroe's hip and slid closer.

Monroe groaned, pushing until he lay on top of Nick. "The turkey can wait a few minutes."

"Just a few minutes? I'm insulted. Where's the romance?"

"In the bathroom with our toothbrushes," Monroe said, reaching for the lube on the end table.

They eventually ended up downstairs, only about an hour later than Monroe would've liked, but Nick didn't really care if they didn't have dinner until midnight. He'd convinced Monroe to spend the day in their pajamas, promising that no one would be scandalized if for some reason someone felt the need to visit.

The doorbell rang for what Nick thought must've been the seventh or eighth time so far that day, and Nick dropped his bag of potato chips on the coffee table. "I'll get it," he called to Monroe, who was elbow-deep in a bowl of mashed potatoes.

He opened the door to find an older couple, the man in a worn t-shirt and the woman in what looked like a fur coat, a covered dish in her hands. Nick didn't recognize them but figured they were another couple in the neighborhood.

"I'm sorry, I thought we had the right address," the woman said, leaning back to look at the number on the house again. "We're looking for Monroe."

"Then you're in the right place," Nick said, smiling. He stepped back. "Please, come in." He took the woman's jacket, hanging it on the hook beside the door and called, "Monroe, we have guests."

"Terrific!" Monroe called, always happy to greet his neighbors. For someone who was certain he wasn't a people person, he was certainly loved by everyone in his neighborhood. He walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron. "Merry Christ – mom, dad? What're you doing here?"

"Since we knew you weren't going to come home, we decided to visit you here," the woman said.

Nick stood back, feeling a sudden awkwardness and wondered if it had to do with Monroe and his parents or the fact that Nick was there in his pajamas, obviously comfortable enough with the place to answer the door and welcome inside people he didn't know.

He took the moment to study Monroe's parents a little more now that he knew who they were.

Monroe's mother wore a Christmas sweater, one much more toned down than the ones worn by her son. Her dark hair had streaks of grey and was cut short, curling just underneath her pierced ears. She seemed refined, stylish.

His father, on the other hand, must run warmer than his son even, with no jacket over his t-shirt publicizing the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. His threadbare jeans had obviously been worn quite a bit, as did the scuffed tan working boots. He sported what looked like a buzz cut a few weeks past needing a trim. His tan, weather-beaten face spoke of a life mostly spent outdoors.

After a moment's hesitation, Monroe stepped forward, small smile on his face, as he shook his father's hand and kissed his mother's cheek. "Oh! This is Nick. Nick, these are my parents, Marguerite and Martin."

Nick smiled and shook the couple's hands, deciding to follow Monroe's lead. If Monroe felt more comfortable introducing Nick as his friend, then Nick wasn't going to contradict him.

"Have a seat," Monroe pulled the blanket off the sofa and tossed it on the chair.

"I like the decorations," his mother said, sitting down. "A little light, but I'm sure you've been busy with school."

Behind her, Monroe rolled his eyes, and Nick smiled.

"The pajamas are a nice touch, if a little casual for visitors."

"We thought we were going to be alone today," Monroe said, his eyes seeking Nick.

Nick smiled faintly, seeing resignation. They'd planned on another day of cuddling on the sofa, eating the delicious dinner Monroe had made, and exchanging presents. But all day they'd been inundated with visitors, and by his expression, Monroe had realized that their 'alone time' wasn't meant to be.

As disappointed as he was, Nick found himself looking forward to spending time with Monroe's parents. He realized that while Monroe talked about school and work, he never mentioned his life before college, nothing about his family life or about growing up. So far, the only information Nick had gotten had been from Hap, and even the normally verbose man was surprisingly reticent about sharing details. So Nick decided to see this intrusion as a great opportunity to learn about Monroe's childhood – and maybe have some stories he could tease his lover about later.

"We can always go change," Nick offered.

"No need to go through all that trouble for us," Monroe's dad said gruffly. He nudged at his wife and nodded at the dish in her hands.

"Oh! I didn't know if you'd already made some, but it's rude to visit empty handed." She held the dish up to Monroe.

A large grin spread across his face as he reached out and took the bowl. "You didn't."

She smiled back. "I did."

"Awesome!"

Nick suddenly saw his boyfriend as he probably was as a child, eyes sparkling, large, excited grin on his face.

Monroe turned to Nick. "You haven't had apple dumplings until you have had mom's."

"So you hadn't already made them, then?" She asked.

"I don't make them. What's the point of trying when they'd never be as good as yours?" Monroe was so busy unwrapping the bowl that he missed the proud smile his mom sent his way.

Nick almost got a little misty himself.

Monroe lifted the bowl to his nose and took a deep sniff. "Heaven in a bowl."

His mother laughed and looked over at Nick. "That's what he's called my dumplings since he was a little boy."

"I can't wait to try them, then," Nick said.

"Maybe we can lay out all of the food on the on the counter in the kitchen, and we can eat in here. This is the biggest table we have in the house," Monroe explained, looking down at the coffee table.

"We know, Honey," Monroe's mom said, "Hap told us."

Monroe blinked. "When did you talk to Hap?"

"Around Thanksgiving. He was with some friends on a road trip."

"I can't believe he didn't say anything!"

Nick was surprised as well. Hap wasn't known for keeping secrets.

Monroe's father chuckled. "He'd been drinking a bit."

"Such a surprise," Monroe's mother said dryly.

"He probably doesn't even remember the conversation," his father finished.

"Anyway, we decided to bring you a table as our Christmas present."

Monroe stared at his parents in surprise. "You didn't have to do that. You made dumplings and drove all the way here. That was more that I could've expected."

"Well, we lugged the damn thing this far; we're not taking it back," Monroe's father said gruffly.

"I'll help you bring it in," Nick said, heading to the door for his shoes and coat.

"Monroe can stay here and show me what he's made for the meal," his mother said, taking her son's arm.

Monroe sent a dramatic "help me!" look toward Nick, who smothered a laugh as he pulled on his coat and followed the older man outside.

The table was covered by a tarp in the back of a beaten-down pickup truck. They took their time loosening the bungee cords and tie-down straps, and eventually Monroe's father pulled off the tarp and started folding it haphazardly.

The table itself was an example of pure craftsmanship. Made from a dark wood, the circular top featured carved images. Nick was only able to trace what looked like a wolf before Monroe's father started directing him in the steps needed to take to get the table off the truck and into the house safely.

Nick offered to stand on the ground while Monroe's father eased it off the bed of the truck.

"Hell, son, call me Martin, and I'll take you up on that. Just be careful; this table's heavier than it looks."

"I'm stronger than I look too," Nick bragged, hoping he was right and that he didn't do irreparable damage to the table.

Nick had just eased the table to the ground when Nick's father – Martin – asked, "So how long have you been with my son?"

Thankful that the man had waited until the table was safe, Nick felt his heart pound even harder. He risked a look over to the other man, whose attention seemed focused on folding the blankets he'd wrapped around the table legs.

"A few months," Nick said quietly.

"He seems happy, happier than I've seen him in a long time." Martin nodded for Nick to pick up his side of the table, and as one they began walking toward the back of the house.

M

"This is quite the spread," Monroe's mother said after perusing the food he'd made while he cleared Hap's makeshift table made with empty kegs for legs and a large piece of wood for a tabletop to make room for a real table. "It seems like a lot for just the two of you."

"Hap's going to come back with his two friends, and he has a girlfriend. Plus, Nick's roommates spend a lot of time here, and Rosalee hangs out here a lot too."

"It sounds like you've created your own pack," she said, looking through the cabinets and pulling out four plates.

"They're not a pack," Monroe said, harsher than he'd intended. He calmed himself and said a little softer, "you know how I feel about that."

"Honey, packs are simply another way of describing a family you've created for yourself."

"Packs are way more than that," Monroe said, taking out the utensils.

"At their core, they're about a bond. Everything else is just…" she looked around, "decoration. You choose what bows to put on it, what traditions to lay at its feet." She put the plates down on top of the microwave, took the utensils from Monroe and put them on top of the plates, before taking his hands and looking into his eyes. "The trappings just help solidify the bond. They can be as simple as spending a holiday together or as rowdy as running through the forest – "

" – killing and tearing apart at everything in our path?" Monroe asked bitterly, turning his face away.

"You still judge? After three years?"

"I don't just judge them! I judge me! I can't undo the things that I've done, the hurt that I've caused. That life isn't for me, and that's why I can't go back."

"Can't or won't?"

Monroe sighed, looking for the right words. In all of his conversations with his mother, he'd never found them before, but maybe this time… "How do you feel when you kill someone?"

She looked at him, confused. "You make it sound like we just walk around killing people like… like serial killers!"

"I felt –feel – guilt for what I did. Every time I let the wolf out, I lose control and become something that makes me feel ashamed."

"You should never be ashamed of who you are!"

"And right now, the me that I am _right now_ , isn't ashamed. I feel like a decent person. I help people; I make things grow. I create; I don't destroy." He could tell by her face that she still didn't understand.

After a few seconds of silence, she asked, "Are you happy?"

"I am," he said simply.

She pulled him down for a hug. "I don't understand you, but I still love you."

"I love you for trying," he said, choking back tears.

"Now let's talk about that boy of yours."

Monroe froze, mid-hug, thoughts about frying pans and fire running through his mind.

His mother pulled away with a little laugh. "We've known you liked boys since you were a pup. But you also liked girls, so we hoped that you'd eventually settle with one, give us some grandchildren." She shook her head. "If this one takes, I guess we're going to have to pin our hopes on your brothers and sisters."

Monroe covered his burning face with his hands. "Mom!" All of a sudden, he was sixteen again, forced to listen to her talk about Angelina.

"He's a cute one," she said, clearly enjoying Monroe's discomfort. "Although," she leaned closer, "a human? Their bodies are so fragile."

Monroe wanted to tell her that he knew for certain that Nick wasn't as fragile as she might think, but he didn't want to invite her into that part of his life. Once he opened that door, he knew she'd walk right through it and never look back.

He was saved having to choose a response by the door flying open, Nick walking backwards with a familiar table. "That looks like – "

"It's not ours," his mother assured him, making him exhale with relief. "Your father made one similar, and this one's yours."

He stepped forward and helped the final few feet, deliberately not looking too hard at the top. There'd be time enough for that later, when he was alone.

Dinner that afternoon turned out to be the most fun he could ever remember with his parents. For the first time, they treated him as an adult, even going so far as to treat Nick with almost as much warmth as they did Hap, whom they'd known since he was a pup. It was obvious from his looks to Monroe's mother that his father knew Nick was more than just a friend as well, but they rolled with it.

Despite their protests, his parents finally agreed to spend the night at the house, using Monroe's room since he didn't want to have to subject them to Hap's room. Unfortunately, that meant that he and Nick were either going to have to sack out in the living room on the sofas – which were comfortable enough for studying or cuddling during a movie but were way too narrow for sleeping through the night – or braving Hap's room themselves.

"How bad can it be?" Nick asked as they washed the dishes while Monroe's parents unpacked and settled into Monroe's room.

Monroe shuddered. "I still have nightmares." Nick laughed, and Monroe said, "Why don't we do this? We stay in there if all we have to do is change the sheets, but if it requires disinfectant, bleach, or any kind of bug repellant, we stay in the living room."

Monroe noted smugly that the possibility of bugs shut Nick up pretty quickly.

Fortunately, Hap's room was cleaner than Monroe had ever seen it, Monroe attributing the difference to Hap's girlfriend. Sure, they spent most of their time at Lenore's place than Hap's, but Lenore wasn't the type to appreciate finding a moldy piece of pizza underneath a bed. Nick opened the window to let out the scent of stale weed while Monroe changed the sheets and added a couple of blankets, and they were ready to bunk down.

They came downstairs and found Monroe's parents dressed in sweats, tying up their sneakers.

"They like to drive around a bit before bed, calms them down in an unfamiliar place," Monroe said. It was way easier than having to explain to Nick that his Blutbad family had a tradition of woging and roaming free on Christmas Eve and needed to find a relatively safe place to do it.

"Alone at last," Nick said, wrapping his arms around Monroe. He did a trick with his leg, and Monroe fell onto the sofa, a grinning Nick lying on top of him. "How much time do you think we have?"

"They're night owls, so I gave them a key," Monroe said, sliding his fingers through Nick's hair. "We'll probably go to bed before they do." Nick smiled, slow and easy, and Monroe's heart surged. "You keep looking at me like that, and we'll definitely be going to be in bed before they do."

"I like the way you think," Nick said, then sighed and laid his head over Monroe's heart.

Monroe loved it when he did that, all of his protective instincts screaming that this was good, this was right. He wrapped his arms around Nick tightly and just held on.

"I like your parents," Nick mumbled, his mouth pressed against Monroe's chest.

Monroe felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest. His parents seemed to finally accept that he wasn't going to be the predator they'd expected, which was something he'd given up ever hoping would happen. On top of that, they not only met Nick but seemed to like him and accept him in Monroe's life. Monroe wasn't sure if they realized that Nick was his mate, but he'd only come to that realization a few weeks before himself. He was sure things would probably go to hell in a couple of days, but for right now, he was more content than he could remember being in a long time.

The doorbell rang, and Monroe groaned.

"I thought you said you gave them a key," Nick said.

"I did. And it's way too early for them to come back," Monroe said, smelling an unfamiliar scent on the other side of the door. It wasn't one of his neighbors or his parents.

"Who could be visiting at nine o'clock on Christmas night?" Nick asked.

Monroe allowed his protectiveness to rise to the forefront as he eased from underneath Nick. "Wait here."

For some reason, his instinct was telling him that whatever was behind that door was trouble; the only question was, was it human trouble or Wesen? It didn't smell like any Wesen he recognized, but the smell wasn't quite human either. He looked through the spyhole but could only see a dark shape blocking the lights he'd used to decorate the house and the yard. Bracing himself, he opened the door.

And all hell broke loose.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nick sat in a waiting room at the hospital, trying to figure out what'd happened hours earlier. One minute he was lying on the sofa at Monroe's, appreciating the way Monroe went all alpha male when someone knocked so late at night. The next thing he knew, Monroe had opened the door, and was knocked back by Aunt Marie.

The violence that ensued was epic, something Nick would never have imagined Monroe or his aunt capable of inflicting. His aunt was yelling words in some language, and something happened to Monroe – Nick was still trying to process what he saw or maybe thought he'd seen, because hair did not grow that fast on people and when did Monroe's nails get that long? Marie pulled something out of her coat, and when Nick recognized it as a gun, he'd tried to throw himself between her and Monroe.

But neither of them would let him interfere. The gun went off as Aunt Marie tackled Monroe, sending both of them over the sofa.

Monroe kept shouting something to her in some foreign language as well but Aunt Marie didn't respond vocally; she just continued attacking Monroe.

Nick wasn't sure how long it took him to get them to stop, but it was only as he stood in front of Aunt Marie that Monroe, hairy hand out ready to swipe, finally paused. Nick'd had to quickly turn to his Aunt and grab her hand to keep her still.

They all stood there in the darkness of the backyard – how was it possible that the two people he loved most in the world had managed to brawl their way from the front door, through the living room and kitchen and end up in the backyard? – their harsh breaths the only sound in the cold evening.

"What the hell?" He didn't know which question to ask first or which person to address. He finally turned to his aunt. "Why did you attack Monroe? What are you doing with a gun? Why are you even here?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Monroe. "Why are you growling and fighting with my aunt? What happened to your face? Where did all the hair and nails come from?"

"I'll answer all your questions, I promise," his aunt said, grabbing at his arm. "Just go outside and wait by my camper."

"There is no way I'm leaving the two of you alone after all this," he said, his arm swiping wide to encapsulate the disaster he'd just witnessed.

"You need to leave now," Aunt Marie said, her eyes never leaving Monroe.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You don't understand. He's dangerous."

"He's not dangerous! He's my boyfriend!"

That finally got Aunt Marie's attention, her eyes snapping to Nick's. "Please tell me you're kidding."

So, okay. This was not really the way he'd wanted to come out to his aunt, but considering what'd just transpired, he figured his sexual orientation was absolutely last on the list of things that needed to be discussed.

"I'm completely serious. And I'm not letting you hurt him."

"You don't understand – "

Nick's laugh was harsh in the night air. "Yeah, I'm getting that."

"You should go with your aunt." Monroe's voice, so sad and defeated, twisted at Nick in a way he hated. He turned and found Monroe, his face back to normal, his eyes large and miserable. "She'll explain everything."

"She'll explain what?" Nick's first thought was to walk over and comfort Monroe, but his aunt pulled him back. He saw Monroe's eyes catch the movement, and Monroe's shoulders dropped.

"I'm sorry," Monroe said, looking like he was about to cry.

"Sorry for what?" Nick asked, trying to pull away from Aunt Marie's surprisingly strong grip. Monroe was breaking his heart, and all he wanted to do was go over there and put his arms around him.

Monroe's eyes flickered from Nick's to Aunt Marie's and then back to Nick's, where he stared at Nick as if he were memorizing his face.

Where before he had felt confusion, Nick suddenly began to panic. He knew that look; that was the look of goodbye.

Aunt Marie refused to talk until they were out of town, checked into a remote Motel 6, and settled into their room around the back. She only got one room, enlisting Nick to help her unload some very disturbing things from the round silver trailer she always pulled behind the truck.

Finally, she sat on her bed, watching Nick pace between the small round table and the wall. "Why don't you sit down?" She pulled out a large sword-type of weapon with a large handle and began to sharpen the blade.

"What _is_ that? What the hell just happened? Why are you here? Why'd you attack my boyfriend? What was going on with Monroe? Why are we at a Motel 6? _Why are you here?"_

"The first thing you need to know is that I'm a Grimm. It's my job to hunt down Wesen."

"Wesen?"

"That is what we call mystical, supernatural, legendary creatures."

Nick opened his mouth to say that they couldn't possibly exist, but he thought about what he'd seen back at the house. "Is that – is that what was going on with Monroe?"

"Exactly." She leaned forward, putting aside the weapon as she studied him intently. "He's a Blutbad, the big, bad wolf. He's dangerous."

Nick shook his head. "Not Monroe."

" _Yes,_ Monroe. Blutbaden live in packs, creating havoc and eating people wherever they go. It's my job to kill them before they can kill more people."

Finally Nick sat, trying to grasp what she was saying, wishing that he could just dismiss his aunt's words as rambling nonsense. But he'd seen what he'd seen, and he couldn't come up with any rational explanation for how Monroe had changed. "Why didn't I see it before? How did you know?"

"As a Grimm, I can see their true faces, not the faces they hide behind in order to try to fit in with humankind."

"And it's your job to hunt them, you said?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because they're dangerous."

"You said 'creatures', plural. There're more than just – what'd you call them? Bloot – "

"Blutbaden," Marie corrected. "I have volumes of books that Grimms have been writing over the centuries in my trailer."

"Wait. So how long have there been these creatures?"

"I can't tell you exact dates, although they've been around at least since Ancient Egypt when they were worshipped as gods."

Nick rubbed at his growing headache. "How many different kinds are there?"

Marie shrugged. "I've never really counted."

"And you hunt them all?"

She nodded.

"And you say they're all dangerous?"

She nodded again.

"I've found," he said slowly, "that when people use words like 'all' and 'everyone' and 'always', they're trying to fit people – or in this case, these, Wesen?" his aunt nodded, "Wesen into small, comfortable boxes." He held up his hand when his aunt opened her mouth. "I may not've known what Monroe was, but I know that he's good.

"If you look in his past, you'll find death and destruction, the blood of innocents on his hands."

"He _has_ hinted at a rough childhood."

Marie barked a cough. "Rough? Hold on a second." She left, the room, returning a few minutes later with a few large books that she plopped down beside Nick. "Have a look at these while I go take a shower."

Nick waited until she'd grabbed her backpack and closed the door behind herself in the bathroom before he picked up the first book.

It was obviously a journal, worn and handwritten in flowing script. Unfortunately, it wasn't written in English. It looked like it could possibly be German – a language Nick didn't know – so he flipped through, looking at the pictures, which got more and more disturbing. At first he was horrified at the graphic images depicting men, women, and children being torn apart and eaten by wolf-like creatures. As he continued to flip pages, though, he found himself just as horrified as those creatures themselves were beheaded and tortured.

He knew that his aunt thought that his personal involvement with Monroe was coloring his opinions, and she was right – to a point. But he found it impossible to believe that all Wesen were evil.

Nick tended to think in shades of gray, one of the reasons why he thought he'd be a good cop. He tried not to jump to conclusions, choosing instead to allow himself to be led by the facts. And so far, the facts were this:

He'd known Monroe for three months, and in that time, Monroe had supported Hap, helped the families in his neighborhood, cooked for the horde that invited themselves over to his house for 'study' sessions, loved Christmas more than anyone Nick had ever encountered, and been nothing but loving to Nick himself.

But Nick had seen the physical changes himself, the claws, the hair – or was it fur? – growing on his face and the backs of his hands. He'd looked guilty and apologized, although that had been pretty nonspecific.

His Aunt Marie has always been vague about what she did, and he'd grown up not questioning it. Contrary to her feeble looking exterior, she'd always been pretty strong, and she'd looked pretty comfortable handling that weapon.

Monroe and Aunt Marie had managed to throw each other around the house enough that they'd not only broken a lot of the furniture but also made their way from the front door all the way to the backyard.

And Nick seemed to be the only one out of the three of them surprised by the violence.

Just like that, Nick understood what he needed to do. He left a note on the hotel pad that he had to run an errand and would be back soon. He couldn't find his aunt's keys, so he hotwired the truck – something he'd learned to do while he was fixing his car – and headed back the way he had left.

Thirty minutes later, he pulled up in front of Monroe's house, noting that the front door still hung open. He took a moment to root through the trailer, trying not to get distracted by all the weird shit in there – and found a bat-like weapon that he held in both hands as he gingerly walked into the house.

"Monroe?" He called before thinking that perhaps announcing his presence might not've been the brightest thing he'd done. Hefting the bat a little higher, he stepped further inside.

He winced at the overturned sofa, the smashed picture-frame glass crunching underneath his feet as headed toward the kitchen. The new kitchen table Monroe's parents had given him had broken into two pieces when Aunt Marie had kicked Monroe into, and then over, it. The microwave, which hadn't been new but had been pretty handy, lay on the floor, the door barely hanging on its hinges. He moved through the debris of broken dishes to the door leading to the backyard, which had taken more of a hit than the front door.

He found Monroe sitting, legs out, leaning against the side of the house, eyes closed. He gasped, dropping the bat and falling to his knees. He looked dead, something Nick found inconceivable. "No, no, no. Monroe!" He cupped Monroe's jaw, the beard tickling familiarly against his palm.

Monroe's eyes opened, but he seemed dazed. He blinked when he saw Nick, then closed his eyes again. Nick took a second to breathe a sigh of relief that seemed to go throughout his entire body.

"Monroe!" Nick tapped lightly at Monroe's face. "I need to know where're you're hurt."

Monroe frowned, opening his eyes. "Y'r not real," he mumbled.

"I'm right here," Nick said. "Come on, don't scare me like this."

"Came to f'nish m'off?"

"You know me better than that. I came to talk to you, to hear your side of the story. But first, I need you to tell me where you're hurt."

"My heart hurts, okay?" He paused for a moment. "That sounded r'lly pat-pathetic, dn't it?"

Nick smiled fondly at Monroe. He'd never admit it out loud, but he loved it when Monroe was goofy. He couldn't fully appreciate it at the moment, since Monroe refused to tell him where he was hurt, but it reinforced the fact that human or not, Monroe was still who he'd fallen in love with. He'd focus on Monroe's health first, then try to figure out the rest of it later. "Can you get up?" Maybe if he could get Monroe to the sofa that was still upright, he could better assess Monroe's injuries. The way he was slurring his words, he probably had a concussion.

"Yep," Monroe said, then sat there for a few seconds. "Maybe not?"

Nick wrapped one of Monroe's arms around his shoulders and helped him up. It was definitely tough going, but eventually they staggered back into the house, Monroe falling heavily on the sofa.

Breathing hard, Nick stared down at his boyfriend as he absently wiped his hand on his – he was still wearing his pajamas. It seemed like months ago they'd had their conversation about it.

Then it hit him that he was wiping his hand. Why was his hand wet? He looked down at his top and saw a blood smear, and he quickly knelt at Monroe's feet, hands slowly working their way up his legs. "Where are you bleeding?"

"I'm bleeding?" Monroe asked, then, "Oh, right."

"What do you mean, 'Oh right'?" Nick's hands were up to Monroe's thighs.

Monroe gently tapped his right side.

"What happened?" Nick pushed Monroe to the left, pulling up Monroe's pajama top. "She shot you!"

"'s a graze, though, right?" Monroe asked, his eyes more focused as he spoke a little clearer. Nick assumed the walk had energized him some. "Feels like a graze."

"It's not a graze." Nick looked around the disheveled living room, trying to locate a phone. Finally giving up, he patted Monroe's thigh. "Please tell me there's another phone upstairs."

Monroe shook his head. "Down here."

As was Nick's. Lost in the debris.

"Your parents should be home soon, right?"

"Came and left," Monroe said.

Nick didn't buy it. "There's no way they would've left you here to die." It took one blink for him to get it. "They didn't know about the bullet."

"Had to get them away from – " Monroe didn't need to pause for Nick to finish the sentence own his own.

Nick didn't have an answer for that. He did have questions, but he pushed them to the back of his mind, adding them to the rest of the ones he had for Monroe once things had settled down. "Let's get you to my car; I'll drive you to the hospital." He put Monroe's arm back over his shoulders.

"Can't go," Monroe said, hissing as he tried to pull away.

Confused, Nick looked at him. "Are you planning on taking out the bullet by yourself?"

"They'll call the cops, who'll ask a lot of questions."

That was a good point. But what choice did they have? "I guess we'll have to lie."

Monroe shook his head. "Everyone's home for Christmas, and you can bet that they were all at their windows once the noise started. They'll be able to give the make and model of your aunt's car – probably the license plate too – and they'll know that you left with her. They'll do whatever they can to help the cops find her, because they think that will help me."

"Shit," Nick muttered. He wasn't used to living around people who cared that much about each other.

Monroe suddenly stiffened. "She's here."

"Who?"

"The Grimm. Your aunt." Monroe pressed a hand over his wound as he frantically looked around. He groaned, reaching for a piece of the floor lamp that had fallen on the opposite side of the sofa.

Nick tightened his hold. "You keep moving, and you're going to die."

"She's coming to kill me anyway." Monroe took a practice wave with his makeshift weapon. "You need to go. This isn't your fight."

Fury raced over Nick, heating his entire body. "The two people I love most in the world are trying to kill each other! How is that not my fight?"

"I'm not trying to kill her," Monroe said, his eyes flitting to Nick before returning to the open doorway. "I'm trying to survive."

"Let me talk to her. I can convince her to leave you alone."

Monroe shook his head. "She's a Grimm; she kills Wesen like me. It's her nature. She's killed some of my ancestors." Monroe smiled faintly. "Some of them did deserve it." He shrugged, his breath catching at the movement. " _I_ deserve it."

"You keep saying you don't deserve good things, which I'm thinking means that you probably did some pretty bad things when you were younger." He watched Monroe flush as he opened his mouth, but Nick continued quickly, "But that isn't the Monroe I know. You've changed. No matter who you were before, you're now someone I'm proud to say is my boyfriend."

Monroe's eyes misted. "Blutbads and Grimms are an impossible combination."

"Then I'll meet up with Aunt Marie somewhere else; you two will never have to hang out together."

Monroe looked confused. "She hasn't told you?"

"He never gave me the chance," Marie said, walking into the house with some sort of crossbow in her hands.

Nick moved in front of Monroe. "I'm not going to let you kill him."

"Are you going to let him kill me?" Marie asked. "Because that's what Blutbads do. They kill."

"Not me. Not anymore," Monroe said.

"Aunt Marie, he's a vegetarian! He grows vegetables and mows his elderly neighbor's lawn. That might've been who he _was_ , but that's _not_ who he is now. So put that thing down."

"Mini crossbow," Monroe muttered.

Nick looked back at him. "What?"

"It's a mini crossbow."

"You're bleeding to death with a bullet in your side, and you're worried about proper weapon terminology?"

Marie lowered her weapon – mini crossbow. "Take him to the hospital."

"We don't have a story to cover all of this – " he gestured around the room " – plus a bullet wound," Nick told her.

"I'll handle it," she said.

"But – "

"Let me handle it."

Nick sighed, knowing that Monroe didn't have the time for him to sit there and argue with his aunt. He was just going to have to trust her and focus on Monroe. He turned back to his boyfriend, trying to be as gentle as he could as he wrapped Monroe's arm around his waist and hefted him off the sofa. He had to adjust his grip immediately to accommodate Monroe's weakening condition, and his focus narrowed to helping him get to the car. Nothing else mattered at the moment.

Since he had no idea where his keys were in the house, Nick hotwired the car – he seemed to be doing that a lot lately – and headed straight for the hospital. Monroe closed his eyes as soon as he folded himself into the front seat, which Nick had slid as far back as it would go. He took a moment to rest a hand against Monroe's neck, comforted and worried by the faint pulse.

Evidently, Aunt Marie had called ahead, because there were nurses, doctors, and a gurney all waiting for them when they arrived. By the time Nick had parked the car and made it back inside, he'd begun to worry that he wouldn't have access to Monroe. After all, he was just the boyfriend, not a relative or a spouse. He couldn't even call Marguerite or Martin, because he didn't have their phone number.

So here he sat, a growing black ball of worry in his gut, his mind awash with all that he had seen and heard in the past few hours. He needed answers and time.

But first he needed to know that Monroe was going to be okay.

M

The antiseptic smell first clued Monroe in that he wasn't waking up at home. That, and the fact that he didn't have Nick lying beside him.

It took a couple of moments for recent events to come back to him. It started slowly, then flowed through him so quickly that all he could do was sit there and relive it:

 _He wasn't sure how long he sat on the ground beside the broken door leading out to the backyard, and truth be told, he didn't really care. Months ago he'd told himself that getting involved with Nick was a bad idea – granted, there was no way he could have known that Nick's aunt was a Grimm, more than likely the Grimm who'd hunted and killed some of his relatives – but he'd let his heart overrule his head. Now his heart was broken, his head throbbed with every heartbeat, and his house was torn apart._

Merry Christmas to him.

He huffed out a bitter laugh and wiped at his eyes. His life had just upended; he should be panicking, calling all of the Wesen he knew in the area including Hap and Rosalee, calling his parents, packing to leave before Marie returned to finish the job. Instead all he could do was just sit here. In the cold.

Eventually he heard voices from the living room, his mother's, "What happened here?"

His father's, "There was a fight – Monroe? Nick?"

The thumping sound meant that his father had run up the stairs, and he heard both parents calling his and Nick's names, but he couldn't seem to call back.

He must've blanked out at some point, because he seemed to blink, and his mom was suddenly kneeling beside him, her hand on his forehead.

"Honey, what happened?"

"You weren't the only ones who decided to surprise their family for the holidays," he said, hating the wobbly sound to his voice. He cleared his throat. "Nick's aunt stopped by."

"Did she bring some thugs with her?"

Monroe looked up at her, then his father who'd walked up behind her. "Nick's aunt is Marie Kessler."

If he'd been capable of it, he might've smiled at the shock on their faces.

"We have to get out of here," his dad muttered. "Marguerite, grab your stuff. Monroe, how long ago did they leave?"

Monroe shrugged as he heard his mother climb the stairs.

"Monroe!" His dad's no-nonsense voice caught his attention, as it always had. "How long have you been sitting here?"

Monroe just shrugged.

"Then we have to go right now. Is there anything that you need that you can't replace?"

"Um," Monroe tried to think. "I can't go anywhere. I have classes in a few days, and the house is a disaster."

"Son, this life is over. How much does Nick know about where you're from?"

"I never really talked about… about growing up." He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. "Habit."

His father nodded. Martin had explained to his son that even though he preferred living with his kind, Martin had spent a small amount of time in the presence of humans and various other wesen. So he'd learned to adapt, to avoid talking in specifics about growing up, where he was from, his family and friends. After he'd calmed down and finally accepted that Monroe was going to leave for college, he'd taken his son aside and did his best to prepare Monroe for a life outside the pack. His advice had helped more times than Monroe could count.

"Okay." His father stood, clapping his hands together. "So this is the plan. Your mom will be down in just a minute. I'll drive us out of here, and we'll go on a little sightseeing trip around the country. You and your mom can contact everyone we know. She'll call the people back home just in case Nick gives the Grimm enough information for her to track down your hometown. You call your Wesen friends from here. Hopefully they're all off on vacation?"

Monroe nodded.

"Good. They'll be safe while they have time to decide what they want to do."

"Boys, I'm ready. Let's go. Monroe, I grabbed some t-shirts, pants, and underpants from your drawers."

"Mom!" Monroe whined and felt like he was twelve years old again. That small reminder of normalcy helped rouse him a little.

"I didn't look for your porn stash or anything," she said.

"Oh my – mom!"

"Let's go," Monroe's dad said. "We need to get as many miles between us and the Grimm as possible." He held out his hand toward Monroe. "Time to start a new life."

Monroe tried to sit up, panicked as he looked around the empty hospital room. Marie Kessler was on his trail – and she knew he'd been with her nephew. "I'm so dead," he muttered, lying back down to ease the pain. He'd managed to hold his own back at the house, but now he was already weak and wouldn't be much of a challenge. Hopefully, though, she hadn't picked up on his parents' trail. They'd tried in vain to convince him to go with them, finally giving up and telling him that they were going on a long vacation and would get word to him in a few months when they were sure they were safe.

He thought about Hap and Rosalee and knew he had to somehow get in touch with them, but first he had to get out of the hospital.

The next day, he stepped out of the wheelchair he'd been forced to ride in and got into the Uber he'd reserved. He clutched his bag of meds and sheets of instructions in his hand, resolved to accept that he'd been right all along; being alone was what was best for him.

He'd arrived with nothing, no wallet or friend or family, so he'd had to make do. It wasn't like he'd never had to do this before on his own, but he'd grown accustomed to being able to rely on Nick, something he obviously couldn't do anymore.

His head ached, as did his cracked ribs and the bullet wound in his side, but all of that took a backseat to the loneliness and feeling of loss. He reminded himself that this was how it was always going to end up – his head had known it and tried to talk him out of seeing Nick, but he hadn't been able to help himself. Even now, after experiencing it all, he couldn't say that he regretted being with Nick. They'd been the best few months in his life.

He gingerly stepped out of the car, thanking the driver, also thankful that he'd already established an account so he could order one as long as he could remember his password.

The front door still lay haphazardly against the side of the house, and Monroe wondered absently if looters had left anything useful.

He walked inside, stopping in surprise when he surveyed his clean – if mostly empty – living room. He froze, smelling the air.

A few seconds later, Fortunus Blanks, one of Hap's football buddies, walked out of the kitchen, chatting with Wu.

Stunned, Monroe could only stare.

Wu'd just taken a bite of whatever he had in his hand when he noticed Monroe. "Hey! We were going to come visit you at the hospital a little later with some pants and stuff, but I guess our timing was off." He took in the clothes Monroe had been given at the hospital and smirked. "Welcome home!"

"Yeah, dude." Fortunus was a six foot six African American whose dreams of playing pro football had been dashed after a bad car accident when he was a sophomore in high school; while he couldn't get a scholarship to any of the prestigious colleges he'd planned on attending, he was still good enough to be the best player on the GN football team. He and Wu had been friends in grade school and had reconnected when Wu started hanging out over at Monroe and Hap's.

That still didn't explain why they were in his house – or why his living room didn't show any of the signs that he and Nick's Grimm aunt had fought. He felt a little pang at the missing sofa, his and Hap's first piece of furniture after they'd rented the house their sophomore year. They'd found it a couple of blocks away on the sidewalk, waiting for garbage day, and they'd snuck over in the middle of the night to take it.

All of the evidence of Christmas had disappeared too, and Monroe wondered if any of it had been salvageable. He felt like he should care more about it than he did right now, but he also knew that he was in a bit of an emotional fog. He decided he'd worry about it later.

He realized that he'd been silent too long and tried to give them a smile that felt strange on his face. "Hey. Did you clean up the mess?"

"Yeah," Wu walked up to Monroe, clapped a hand gently over Monroe's shoulder. "Nick told us what happened, about the home invasion and everything, so don't feel like you need to talk about it – unless you want to. We're here if you need to vent too."

Fortunus' face was epic – it was obvious that he'd be willing to sit there and listen but he was hoping, "please _please_ do not need to talk about your feelings and stuff".

Wu's face was just as open, revealing that he would _love_ to hear all of the details. But he wouldn't push.

Suddenly Monroe felt an unexpected wash of thankfulness rise inside him and had to duck his head to blink away the stab of tears gathering in his eyes. Once he got himself in control he looked back at them. "Sorry. Drugs."

"I hear you," Wu said as if he knew what it was like to get hurt worse than the simple break he'd gotten after falling out of a tree in middle school. "Why don't you go upstairs and get some rest. You hungry? Your neighbors have been bringing food pretty much nonstop, and most of it's vegetarian."

"I'm not hungry right now," Monroe said, "but thanks. I might just take a shower, though." He smelled like hospital.

"Hap wanted to come back from his trip early, but he's in the car with Hap-San and Bohlale, so I told him that he should just stay with them and have fun. I'll stay here with you until you're back on your feet."

"You don't have to do that," Monroe said, easing into the chair once he realized that Wu, being Wu, still had a lot to say. Due to the lack of a table, he dropped his meds bag on the floor at his feet.

"It's not a problem," Wu said. "Besides, this place is closer to my Winter Term internship than the apartment."

While he didn't doubt that it was the truth, Monroe knew how social Wu was, and with Hank gone for the month doing an internship back home in Philadelphia at one of the police departments, the apartment probably felt pretty empty.

"And just give me a call if you need any heavy lifting," Fortunus said. "The team came by yesterday, and we cleaned up and took all of the broken stuff to the recycle and trash yards. The new doors should get here in a few hours."

Monroe felt that pressure in his chest again. "That was – you didn't have to – "

"You feed us all the time," Fortunus said. "You watch after Hap and come to our games. Coming over here was not a biggie." He shrugged. "We don't have practice until tomorrow, so it was a nice little workout."

GN allowed for football to be a winter term class choice, which was required for starters. Hap, who was more of an enthusiastic bench warmer, pretty much showed up whenever he was free, and somehow, he got away with it.

"Tell them thanks," Monroe said, feeling that that it wasn't enough. " – and that I'll have them all over for a barbecue or something once I get better and Hap gets back."

"It's a deal," Fortunus said, wide grin proving that he'd been hoping for that kind of response.

Monroe felt some of the pressure ease. He might've lost the love of his life, but he wasn't alone. He had friends, people who cleaned up his destroyed house so he wouldn't have to do it himself, people who brought over food so he wouldn't have to go out and buy some and cook it himself, people who offered to stay and help take care of him.

Monroe braced himself, planting his hands on the arms of the chair and pushing himself up to standing with the slightest of groans. "I think I'm gonna take that shower and head off to bed for a bit."

"We're right down here if you need anything!" Wu called.

Monroe managed to hold out for a couple of hours before he finally broke down and asked Wu about Nick. He blamed it on the drugs that Wu'd brought up with some soup a few hours after Monroe had showered and dropped into bed, having fallen asleep on the thought that for the first time, it felt way too large.

He was lucid enough to try to hide it behind a few other questions. "Have you heard from Hank?"

"Yeah, he's hating the suits he has to wear, but he seems to be enjoying the internship." Wu sat down on the end of the bed.

"You said Hap was doing good too?"

"I think he said he was in Wisconsin somewhere. He talked about being stuffed with cheese."

Monroe played with his spoon, going for nonchalant. "And… everyone else?"

Wu gave him a look before saying, "Nick's doing an independent study. He told me what it was about, but all I heard was, 'wa wa wa wa'." He opened and closed his hand rapidly while he spoke.

"Did he seem happy?"

"Do you want me to be honest?"

"It depends on your answer, " Monroe said seriously.

Wu chuckled. "We've been spending way too much time together."

"You know what? Never mind. Forget I asked," Monroe said, losing his courage. "I'm just going to eat my soup since I've already taken my pill, and it's supposed to be ingested with food…"

"He's fine," Wu said gently, "but he misses you."

"He asked about me?"

"In the same way you asked about him."

"Oh." Monroe tried not to sound disappointed.

"Nick's my buddy, and I try to live by the credo 'live and let live', but I gotta say that he's kind of disappointed me, leaving you alone in the hospital the way he did. I don't know what happened between the two of you, but that's not how you treat the person you love."

"No, Nick is doing the right thing. We're not – " he had to swallow and push the words out, " – supposed to be together."

"I call bullshit," Wu said. "I saw you two together, and sure, you're the reason why I have to buy pants three sizes larger than at the beginning of the year, but you two just seemed to fit."

"I can't explain it, but don't blame Nick. He's not leaving me while I'm down. It was just bad timing. He's doing the right thing."

Wu snorted, standing. "Nick'll always be my friend, even when he's being a dumb ass. You too. So eat your damn soup and get some rest."

M

Nick hated January. He and Aunt Marie were spending it traveling through North Dakota, where it was snowy and cold and miserable and ugly. Sure, he'd considered it beautiful when they'd spent a year there when he was in ninth grade. But now he knew how his aunt spent her time, so he spent a lot of _his_ time reading all of her books written in English, inviting himself along so he could try to talk to the Wesen she wanted to just up and kill.

Sometimes he managed to broker a truce between her and the various creatures, and sometimes there was bloodshed. The first time a Wesen had come after them, Nick'd been unprepared and scared, but he'd helped Aunt Marie kill the Hundjäger.

After that, he asked her to train him on the various weapons she kept in the trailer, and he strived to find a balance between being a mediator and a stone cold killer. He hoped his aunt was realizing that some of the Wesen just wanted the same things humans did, to be allowed to live productive lives raising their families.

She answered every question he asked her, even volunteering information the more comfortable she got with his tagging along. That's how he learned that once she died, she'd more than likely pass it off to him. The trailer – and the responsibility – would be his, whether he liked it or not.

At first he felt that all of his dreams were crumbling with each tidbit of information he learned. How could he become a cop if he had to travel around the world seeking out Wesen? While he wasn't as sociable as Hap or Wu, he still liked having friends, having a place to call his own. If he couldn't trust people with his secret, how would he explain why he was roaming throughout the country in an old truck and pulling a metal trailer? He was going to end up alone and lonely. It didn't seem to bother Aunt Marie, but he wondered if she'd been like him at the beginning, soft and unsure, and grew those calluses as a survival mechanism. He loved his aunt, but he didn't want to end up so tough that he preferred his own company.

Then he started to realize that even if he couldn't choose his inheritance as a Grimm, he could still choose parts of his own path. Just like he refused to indiscriminately kill every Wesen they encountered, he could choose to find a city where he could grow his own roots. He could still be a cop, just one with maybe more insight thanks to his knowledge about the Wesen world. He could keep the peace in both worlds. Of course, it wouldn't be easy, but he wasn't afraid of hard work when it came with the promise of something value coming of it.

And he didn't have to close himself off. Obviously, he'd have to learn how to keep secrets from Hank and Wu, who knew him better than anyone other than Aunt Marie and –

Well, Aunt Marie.

But he could still be a good friend, still spend time with them. Hunting Wesen could only become his entire world if he let it.

He deliberately put off thinking consciously about Monroe for as long as he could - well, if he didn't count his daily conversations with Wu, who didn't even need Nick's hints anymore to start talking about Monroe.

It felt like Monroe was there, just out of reach, hiding in the shadows of Nick's motel rooms. Even in his small beds – all beds were small after Monroe's – he felt lonely. He missed sharing smiles and kisses with his boyfriend, curling up with him on the sofa watching movies, even just sitting in the room with him studying.

He'd never noticed how much he'd begun to rely on Monroe's touches until he started spending his time with someone who never touched him at all. When he first moved in with Aunt Marie, he'd quickly adapted to her lifestyle, believing that the way they lived was normal. Now that he'd spent time away from her – and with Monroe – the fact that the way that they lived wasn't normal screamed at him all the time.

There were times when he missed Monroe's touch so badly he wanted to scream. That's when he trained the hardest, staying busy until the physical ache became manageable.

His dreams were filled with his running through forests or down empty streets, always looking for something, always behind. He'd wake up, his soul aching, so hard that had to grit his teeth. One problem was easily handled in the shower, although his release never came with the warm, rubbery feeling he got after an enthusiastic romp with Monroe. And the spray of the water never provided the comfort that he felt from Monroe's arms.

"So what do you plan to do?" Aunt Marie said one day after they'd been driving for about twenty minutes in silence.

He allowed himself a moment to appreciate the fact that his aunt had been first one to speak. Normally she preferred it quiet, deep into her own thoughts. It said something that she was the one who initiated conversation this time. "What do I plan to do about what?"

"School. I imagine that if you're going to go back, you need to leave soon."

"Yeah." He scratched at his cheek. "I need my degree before I join the force."

"You're still planning on becoming a cop?" His aunt's disbelief made him smile.

"I am. In fact, I think this'll make me a better cop."

"And lying to your friends? You know you can't tell them."

"I know. At least I know that Hank and Wu are human." Aunt Marie had met them before and had assured him about that fact.

"And what of the Blutbad?"

That was the stickiest part. Seeing Monroe – and their friends' lives were now so intertwined that there was no way he was going to be able to avoid him for an entire semester – and not being able to be with him would feel intolerable.

"You could just kill him." She slid him a look, and it took a few seconds for him to realize that she was teasing him, something she did rarely – and never about Wesen.

"Did you just make a joke?"

She smiled faintly. "You've decided that you aren't going buy into the status quo and do things like we've done them for years."

When she didn't continue, he said, "And?"

"And you even have me thinking about things. Even two months ago, I would've burned that Fuchsbau's house to the ground, but you got in there, found out that he wasn't hurting anyone, and convinced me to leave him alone."

"You're just going soft," Nick chided her.

"I've been taking notes, and I'll be checking on all of these Wesen we're letting off the hook. Any one of them so much as gets a jaywalking ticket, and their hides are mine. But I'm giving them a chance, which was way more than I ever did before. You've come in here and refused to let me – any of your ancestors, really – make your decisions for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe you should think about using that independent thinking everywhere in your life."

Blinking in shock, he turned toward his aunt. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

She shrugged a shoulder, looking a little uncomfortable, but she kept her eyes on the road ahead. "I'm not saying that I think it's a good idea – because I don't. But I see how much you love him, how much you miss him."

"I don't talk in my sleep do I?" He asked, only partially joking.

"You don't need to," she said simply. "If you're going to be your own kind of Grimm, why only apply that open-mindedness to Wesen you don't know?"

"We're totally different species," Nick said.

"You already were before you met," Marie reminded him. "The only thing that's changed is that now you know about it. So you're going to have to decide if makes a difference to you." She pulled off the dirt road and into the woods, driving the truck until it was hidden among the trees, then got out, opening the back door. "The Siegbarstes should be a couple of miles away." With a small grunt, she pulled the Siegbarste Gewehr from underneath the tarp in the truck bed and slung the high-powered elephant gun over her shoulder. "Ready?"

Nick made sure he grabbed the extra bullets coated in Siegbarste Gift and sighed. At least he was getting in some good exercise while he worked out things in his mind.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Hank pulled up in front of the airport just as Nick was walking out, dufflebag in hand.

"Hey," Hank bragged. "I have this whole airport shuttle thing down to a science!"

Nick smiled. "Thanks for picking me up."

"No problem. I got in last night, so I've already unpacked and caught up with everyone except you. You're the last one to get back."

"Happy to be able to wear jeans and sweats all day again?" Nick had exchanged texts with his roommates – and a few from Hap – over the month, so while he didn't know specifics, he had an idea of how everyone was doing.

"You better believe it! The job was great, but I'm not really much of a suit guy." Hank shot Nick a look from the corner of his eye. "So, listen. We're all getting together tonight at Monroe's. I know it'll be awkward for you two, but the rest of us agreed that it was best to just get that first meeting out of the way."

Nick felt his heart beating faster and couldn't tell if he felt dread or anticipation.

"I know you probably don't want to see him, but look – with the one exception of Crazy, you've remained friends with your ex's. There's no reason why you and Monroe can't work through it and come out the other end good, right?"

Nick wasn't sure if he could just be friends with Monroe, not when he still felt so much, but he didn't want to have that conversation with Hank, at least not right now. Instead, he deflected. "You're just worried that you won't have Monroe's food to get you through the rest of the semester."

"There is that," Hank agreed, laughing. "Hap promised to get him to do a spread tonight."

"So he's all healed then?"

"Yeah, about that whole thing. I can't seem to get an explanation from him about what happened."

"I'm sure it was pretty traumatic," Nick said, trying to keep his voice even.

"Oh, absolutely," Hank agreed. "But there're so many things that don't add up. Wu said that it looked like someone kicked in the front door and then brawled their way through the living room and kitchen and busted down the back door. Wu's friends on the football team managed to salvage a few things, but the old sofa in the living room, the microwave, tons of Monroe's dishes and a lot of his Christmas decorations were trashed. "

Nick thought back to how the place looked the last time he was there but only hummed in agreement.

Hank pulled up to a light and turned slightly, facing Nick. "Here's what I don't get. You've practically been in love with the guy since he gave you a ride home, but you don't visit him in the hospital or stay with him while he's recuperating? That's not you. And you were supposed to stay here for Winter term, but out of the blue you decide to spend quality time with your aunt?"

How had Nick forgotten about Hank's deductive reasoning? It was going to come in handy when he became a cop, but Nick really didn't like it when it was aimed at him. "Hank – "

"Just tell me this: did you do that to Monroe?"

Horrified, Nick shouted, "What? No!"

Hank continued to stare at Nick as if he were trying to find the truth in his eyes, but eventually he nodded and turned back to the light, which turned green after Hank had asked the question. "I just needed to see your face when I asked you."

"I'd never hurt Monroe like that!" Nick was insulted and hurt that Hank would've even considered the idea, but he was glad that Monroe still had friends around him, ready to protect him if need be, especially since Nick couldn't do it himself.

"Maybe not physically, but…" Hank let his words drop off, but his meaning was clear.

"Look, I – "

"Here's the thing," Hank said, cutting Nick off. "You're my best friend. But I also consider Monroe a friend. What happened between you two is none of my business, but I'm here if you ever want to talk about it. I may not agree with the decisions you made and why you made them, but I'll listen. I'll still be your friend. And whatever you say will stay right here with me. Okay?"

Nick swallowed the lump in his throat. He really did have fantastic friends. "Okay." He paused a second, then added, "Thanks."

"Anytime," Hank said, smiling. "Now let me tell you about this woman I met. She's pretty strange; I thought maybe I should introduce her to Wu…"

M

Monroe rushed around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the dishes he'd made for the welcome dinner. It was a lot tougher since he'd lost a lot of his dishes during The Brawl, as Wu now called it. He'd bought a couple of plates and bowls at Goodwill, but many of his serving dishes had been gifts or purchased during sales when Monroe could afford them, and most of them had matched. To a certain degree.

"How's it goin'?" Ever since he'd gotten back, Hap had stayed close. He'd suddenly adopted a protective stance that Monroe found alternately endearing and exasperating.

He hadn't told Hap about Nick's aunt. He'd debated about it but finally decided that if she'd wanted to kill him, she would've returned by now and finished the job. She knew where he was – and knew that Nick didn't want him killed – so he might have a chance. If Hap knew, he'd be terrified and might end up doing something stupid. He'd definitely run, and what if Marie Kessler found him and didn't know that he was also a friend of Nick's? As much as Hap thought he was protecting Monroe by staying close, he was much safer himself by staying close to his fellow Blutbad.

Monroe'd taken Rosalee aside and told her. He stressed that Nick and his aunt had no idea that she was a Fuchsbau, and they'd never hear it from him, but he thought he had an obligation to tell her. He said he understood if she felt uncomfortable being around Nick now.

She'd immediately hugged him, making him realize that she was the only person he'd been able to talk to about everything, and suddenly the whole story flew out of his mouth. He finally slowed down twenty minutes later, a complete mess.

Rosalee'd silently gone into the bathroom and wet a washcloth, tenderly wiping his face. She'd leaned against his side, sharing her warmth and support as she promised to be there for him for whatever he needed.

Turned out, what he'd needed turned out to be exactly what she'd done.

After his talk with Rosalee, Monroe'd felt a little more balanced. He started to engage with the others more like he did before, and found that he was glad that the house was filling up again.

He wasn't sure how it'd happened, but he learned that his friends had decided they needed to throw themselves a welcome back party. And he'd been enlisted to make the food. He wasn't upset about it; in fact, he'd privately felt pleased that he had something to contribute and had thrown himself into the plans.

No one told him about Nick until he'd started cooking. He supposed he should've asked – should've realized that he would've already heard if Nick hadn't planned on returning – but he'd spent so much time actively trying _not_ to think about Nick that it hadn't occurred to him to ask if or when Nick was coming back.

So here he stood, frantically trying to finish everything so he could make an excuse and be gone before Hank returned from the airport.

"Almost finished," he muttered, taking a pie out of the oven just as he heard Hank say, "The final traveler has returned, so let's get this party started!"

Monroe snatched his jacket from the hook by the back door and slipped out, walking around the house to hop in his bug, which he'd made sure to park out in the street so he wouldn't be trapped.

He knew he'd eventually meet up with Nick, but he preferred that it happened later. Much later.

M

Although he dreaded the inevitable meeting with Monroe, Nick found his eyes roaming around the room, looking for the tall bearded man. Frowning when he didn't see Monroe, he tried to focus on his friends in the room.

There were more people at the house than he'd expected. He hugged Juliette and Rosalee, greeted the members of the football team and tried to breathe through Hap's tight hug. Wu slapped his back and shoved a beer in his hand, and Nick nodded to a couple of the neighbors he'd met since he'd all but moved in with Monroe.

"He slipped out the back," Hank muttered after conferring with Rosalee and Juliette, "so you can stop looking for him."

Nick opened his mouth for a token protest but quickly closed it with a resigned sigh. "Was I that obvious?"

"Only to those of us who really know you," Hank said with a small smile. Then he grew thoughtful. "Of course, the football team helped with cleanup, so I'm sure they know that you and Monroe have broken up. So other than that… oh, and the neighbors've probably noticed that you haven't been around, so they might have an idea that something's going on too."

"So, everyone probably knows," Nick said, resigned.

"Not the specifics, though. Monroe's been pretty closed-mouthed about it."

Nick wasn't surprised that Monroe hadn't said anything; that's just who Monroe was. The thought had occurred to him that he might return to find that Monroe'd just disappeared, run away so he wouldn't have to worry about Aunt Marie trying to kill him again. The idea of not seeing Monroe ever again had almost made him hyperventilate right there in his motel room.

As the party went on, Nick watched everyone behind a different lens. He wondered how many, if any, were Wesen as well. He hadn't realized that he'd been so focused until Hap walked up to him and handed him a Solo cup filled with beer. "Dude, why're you staring at everybody? You're going to be a cop, right? Did you hear that they're going to raid the house? As your host and your friend, I think I deserve a little warning."

Nick smiled. "As far as I know, no one's coming to confiscate the pot plants you have in your closet."

Shocked, Hap leaned in and whispered, "How'd you know about those?"

"You asked us to water them and put on their grow lights for eight hours a day while you were away."

"Right," Hap said, laughing. "I totally forgot about that." After a few seconds, he bumped Nick with his shoulder. "You look just as miserable as Monroe! I don't know what happened, but if you're sadder apart, doesn't it just make sense to get back together? Think about it."

With that sage advice, Hap ambled over to a group of football players trying to build a tower out of their empty beer cans right where the coffee table used to stand.

"He's right you know," Rosalee said walking in from the kitchen. "He's miserable without you, and you look just as bad."

Nick shook his head. "It's complicated."

She paused for a moment before looking directly into his eyes and saying, "I know."

"No, you don't – "

"Yes. I do."

It took him a second to realize her meaning. Then he noticed the way her hands were clinging to her cup and realized that she was scared of him.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

She nodded. "I hoped you wouldn't, but there's always a chance, no matter how small."

"So he told you about my aunt?"

"He did." She reached out a hand for him but slid her hand back before she touched him. "He felt I had a right to know so I could make an informed decision about whether to stay or run."

"Are you, you know, like him?" He looked around briefly to make sure no one was paying attention to them.

She shook her head. "No, I'm different."

He wanted to ask her more questions, but he knew that it wasn't the time. She bit her lip, and he wondered if she were waiting to see what he was going to do with her.

"Are you are scared of me now?"

"Should I be?" She countered.

"You know me," Nick insisted.

She shook her head. "This whole thing was dumped on you with no preparation, and we know that you were raised by your aunt, who has no problems… doing what she does to us. So who's to say that you wouldn't just listen to her and handle things the same way she would?"

"Because I have my own mind and make my own decisions?" Nick said, feeling insulted.

"History is filled with stories about people who hurt others because they're different or because that's all they know. If you trust the wrong person with your life, you rarely get a do-over. Besides," she leaned closer to him and whispered, "some of Monroe's relatives have died very violent deaths."

The "at your aunt's hands" wasn't spoken, but it was definitely implied.

"Shit," Nick whispered, his head falling back against the wall with a thump. "He must hate me."

Rosalee gave him a sweet smile. "No, he totally loves you. That's what we've all been trying to tell you. If he can love you despite your past, can you love him despite his?"

"But he's not even like me," Nick said.

"He wasn't before, and it didn't matter." Rosalee pointed out. "The only thing that's changed is that you know him better – the _real_ him. It could actually bring you closer if you let it." She paused, as if debating something, before she added, "Even though he doesn't think he does, Monroe deserves someone who'll love him for all that he is. _You_ 're the first person," she put a slight stress on the word, "who's been given the chance to do that. But if you can't love all of him, then maybe it's best that you find that out now. It's just a shame, because you two seemed really happy."

"Rosie, if you're finished flirting with my best friend, maybe you can come over here and settle something for us," Hank called out from the stairs where he was talking to the man who lived in the house across the street.

Rosalee gave Nick a final smile before heading over toward her boyfriend.

Nick realized that he needed to figure out what he wanted. But first, he needed to talk to Monroe.

Now the trick was to get Monroe to stop running long enough for Nick to catch him. 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"I'm heading out," Bud called as she washed the dirt off his hands. "The wife is making a special dinner tonight."

Monroe thought back. "It's not your birthday or anniversary, right?"

"Her parents wanted to take the kids to some kind of show, so they're spending the night with them."

Monroe smiled. "Got it. Have a good time."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early." Because what else did he have to do? While he wasn't admitting to hiding out for the time being, Monroe enjoyed having somewhere that held no memories of his ex-boyfriend. This was his Nick-free zone.

A rap at the doorway had Monroe calling out, "You'd better go get your nookie before she changes her mind."

An awkward pause had him finally looking around from where he was potting a plant, and it felt as if time stopped.

Nick stood in the doorway looking and smelling good. Really, _really_ good. How had Monroe not smelled him the moment he walked in the building?

"Um, hi?" Monroe asked, shoving his nervous hands deeper into the pot.

"You left the house before I got a chance to see you."

"Yeah, I, uh, had things to do here. How'd you get in?"

"Bud let me in. It was nice to finally meet the man I've been talking to over the phone for the past few months. He recognized me and let me in, told me where you were."

"Okay." So much for the building's secured access, but really, who was going to come in and steal plants?

After an awkward silence, Nick walked into the room, perching on a tall stool.

"So you're all healed up?"

"Yeah, we, um, heal pretty fast." Monroe immediately gave himself a mental slap. The first thing he did was draw attention to the fact that he was Wesen? Smart move.

"I'm sorry my aunt shot you." Nick blinked and gave an amused huff. "A sentence I never thought I'd say."

Monroe shrugged a shoulder. "That's what Grimms do to Wesen. To be fair, plenty of Wesen have killed Grimms too, so it's not just one sided."

"Yeah, I read up on it while I was gone."

Another awkward silence that Monroe didn't know how to fill. He wasn't quite sure why Nick was there. With the certainty that he'd never hurt Nick, Monroe had known that Nick wouldn't try to kill him either. But then, Nick's leaving had hurt bad enough.

"So, I thought we should talk."

"About what?"

Nick's sigh was audible over the classical music playing quietly from the radio in the corner. "About us."

It was Monroe's turn to sigh. He pulled his hands out of the dirt and turned around, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He wasn't happy about being so much lower than Nick, but he squelched the uncomfortable feeling and focused on matters at hand. "There _is_ no us anymore, right? Your aunt outed me when she realized what I was, you freaked out, and you left. For a month. That pretty much sums it all up, don't you think?" He hoped he didn't sound a pitiful as he felt.

"I didn't freak out."

Monroe arched an eyebrow. "You keep telling yourself that."

"Give me a break! I suddenly find out that my aunt chases things that I never knew existed, oh, and yeah, one of them is my boyfriend!"

"Yeah, I can see how that'd be too much for you."

"I needed time to learn about – everything."

"I heard you spent time with your aunt. Have wonderful bonding times over the carcasses of dead Wesen?"

"It wasn't like that. Okay," Nick admitted after Monroe gave him a look, "we did have to kill a few, but only the ones who'd killed others. I convinced Aunt Marie to start a conversation first, to see that most of them just wanted to be left alone. To live their lives in peace."

Monroe didn't want to believe him, but it totally sounded like Nick. "I'm glad your trip was fruitful."

"So here's the thing. Our lives are intertwined, so we're bound to keep running into each other. Can you handle that?"

"Of course I can!" Monroe said, trying to sound like he wasn't lying.

"Because it looked like you ran away from the party at your own house. That you were throwing."

"First of all, I had no involvement planning that party. That was all Hap and Wu. And yes, it was at my house, but all I did was make the food. Third, I had work to do." He held up his dirty hands.

"Okay," Nick said, backing down. "I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me."

"It's going to be weird at first," Monroe admitted. He wanted to say that he loved Nick, that one couldn't turn it off at the blink of an eye. But if Nick didn't know that already, then maybe he'd never felt the same about Monroe in the first place. And didn't that tear another chunk out of his heart?

"Of course," Nick said.

"I'm sure it'll get easier," Monroe said grudgingly.

"It'll be just like me and Juliette or probably you and Rosalee. It'll take a while, but we'll end up good friends."

"Terrific," Monroe said, knowing that the reason he and Rosalee were still friends was that she'd never inspired a quarter of the emotion in him that Nick had. How did someone pack all of that away? He didn't know. What he did know was that a month's absence wasn't enough to put a dent in what Monroe felt for him.

And didn't that make him the most pathetic Blutbad in the world?

M

Nick watched Monroe absently rubbing his dirty hands against his thighs, dirtying his jeans, and he was relieved at the gesture. There was something comforting about not being the only one feeling uncomfortable.

Monroe looked like crap. His hair was disheveled more than usual, dark circles underneath his eyes. It was difficult to tell from his seated position and underneath the flannel shirt, but he looked like he'd lost some weight too. Was this Nick's fault?

He hated the thought that he was the cause of making Monroe so miserable. He missed – and yes, still loved – Monroe, but he wasn't sure that Rosalee was right. Maybe he and Monroe could go back to the way they'd been before his aunt visited, but who was to say what would happen when he inherited his Grimmness from his aunt? Would he feel the same?

He'd broached the subject in a very roundabout way with his aunt, knowing how she felt about the whole Monroe situation. He'd asked her what it was like to be a Grimm, how it'd changed the way she looked at the world. She was tightlipped at usual, but she'd said a few things that he filed away for later. She did mention that her traveling and inability to explain her lifestyle meant that she didn't form attachments.

Nick just couldn't see himself traveling around the country – and sometimes the world. He still wasn't quite sure how she made a living, but she was pretty frugal. He'd realized about his third day with her that she usually just slept in the trailer, showering at truck stops, and cooked on the hotplate she kept on top of a chest filled with disturbing, and yet fascinating, weapons. But she'd chosen to stay at budget hotels with kitchenettes on this trip, and they'd mostly eaten canned food, the same kind he cooked when she'd leave him at the apartment when he was growing up. Now he knew what she was off doing, but when he was young, missing his parents, confused and alone, he'd been scared that one day she'd leave and never return.

He returned his attention to Monroe and gathered the nerve to ask something he'd wanted to ask since about a week after he and his aunt had left Monroe in the hospital. "Can I see you? The Blutbad you?"

Monroe blinked.

"I didn't see much when you and Aunt Marie were trying to kill each other."

"Hey! I wasn't trying to kill her, just defend myself! I don't do that anymore!"

Nick held up his arms. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

Monroe relaxed slightly. "Why do you want to see me? I can't believe you and your aunt didn't run into a Blutbad the entire month you were gone."

"A few," Nick admitted, choosing not to go into details. Some meetings had ended well; others had been more like altercations. "But it's not like you all look alike."

Monroe nodded, conceding Nick's point. "Why do you want to see me Woged? It is not like you're ever going to see me like that again."

"You don't think so?"

"We were together three months, and the only time I woged was when a Grimm surprise attacked me and launched herself at me. I think we can go another five months without problems, especially since we won't be seeing each other much."

Nick's mind understood that he wouldn't be around Monroe as much anymore, but he didn't like the way Monroe phrased it. "It sounds like you're going to be avoiding me."

"Not really, " Monroe said, "but this whole thing just reinforced the fact that I'm supposed to be alone."

While he didn't particularly like the idea of Monroe being with someone else, he hated picturing Monroe growing old alone, becoming that bitter old man in the neighborhood. And as much as Monroe refused to admit to it, he needed others. Nick had seen him open up, smile and joke, share more since he, Hank, and Wu had come into his life. Monroe was, despite his protestations, more of a people person than he thought, no matter how hard he tried not to be. He needed others around him just like everyone else.

Nick'd finally found a book written mostly in English about Blutbaden, and he'd spent days devouring it, staring intently at the pictures with notes scratched in the margins, taking in every fact. It'd said on quite a few occasions that they were similar to wolves in that they ran in packs. Nick knew that Monroe had given up a lot of Blutbaden ways, but he saw Monroe when everyone was at his house. Monroe seemed absolutely content. Nick didn't want him to go back to the way he was before they'd met on that dark stretch of road.

"I'm thinking that you grew up in a pack, and I just don't see how you can just ignore that part of yourself."

Monroe glared. "I'm ignoring the violent part of me, the part that craves destruction and blood. I'm vegetarian and do my Pilates and yoga, choosing to create rather than destroy."

"But – "

"Who'm I supposed to be with?" Monroe almost shouted. "I can't be with humans, because – " he pointed dirty hands between the two of them. " – and I definitely can't be with another Blutbaden, because everything I have built here will fall to pieces in hours. Hours, Nick!"

"You were with Rosalee. What about other Wesen?"

"Rosalee was a big exception; you know how everyone experiments in college. Her family would probably disown her if she tried to marry a Blutbad." Monroe shook his head. "Don't worry about me. I was fine before we met, and I'll be fine again." He looked at his pot. "I'm going to get back to this. I'm sure the party's still going on over at the house."

"Yeah, I think I'm partied out." Nick stood, pausing. "I'll see you later, right?" He hoped he didn't sound as tentative as he felt.

"It's like you said. Our friends are intertwined now, so I'm sure we'll run into each other." Monroe turned back to the plant, shoving his hands into the dirt. "Have a good night," he said over his shoulder, not sparing a look at Nick.

Accepting the dismissal, he muttered a, "You too," and let himself out, absently listening to the door automatically lock behind him. He slid behind the wheel of his car, feeling just as miserable and almost as confused as he had the day his aunt Marie visited.

M

The first half of February sucked. It rained a lot, snowed once, and flu-like symptoms started working their way through both campuses. When they were healthy, Nick and his friends would meet up with Rosalee over at Monroe and Hap's, although neither Juliette nor Monroe spent much time there. Juliette seemed to have her hands full with school and Renard. Hap blamed Monroe's absence on the fact that he was trying to finish up some stuff before he graduated, but Nick wondered how much of that was just so they didn't have to run into each other.

Unfortunately, the strain remained the few times they did see each other. Nick missed feeling Monroe's arms around him, the way they laughed together, and he thought maybe Monroe was feeling the same way. They tended to sit as far apart as possible, contributing to conversations without ever having to address each other directly.

Every so often, something would remind Nick of a conversation he and Monroe'd had, and their eyes would lock in mutual acknowledgement – until they remembered where they stood with each other.

Valentine's Day found Hank out with Rosalee, Hap out with Lenore, and Wu hanging out with the other single members of GN's football team, who'd evidently adopted him as their own despite the fact that he went to the other school. Wu had invited Nick to go with them, seeing as how he was single too "and evidently looking to stay that way for a while", something he couldn't help since no one appealed to him after Monroe, but he'd passed. He was never one for big parties, and Wu and the GN football team's involvement meant kegs of beer and unending games of quarters.

Instead, he decided to stay in, maybe study a little or, more likely, watch a movie. But he couldn't concentrate on his books, and none of the movies appealed to him. Instead, he decided to go for a walk and ended up buying some discounted candy and eating way too much of it before cutting his losses and going to sleep early.

Worse. Valentine's. Ever.

M

Monroe was incredibly busy in March and the first part of April. He found himself having to justify every choice he'd made in his spring garden layout to Professor Mendelsohn, his advisor and the chair of the Department. The professor hadn't visited Monroe or the gardens since Monroe's freshman year, and Monroe found the intrusion stifling. Their produce had had been plenteous enough for them to sell most of it to the GN cafeteria and then set up a fruit and vegetable stand. He'd coordinated with the business majors and found a couple of people interested in pricing and running the stand for a small percentage of the profits for their department and college credit.

But this season the professor was always underfoot, questioning every one of Monroe's choices, suggesting things that were impractical for their target customers. It wasn't that the man wasn't unknowledgeable; it was that he was mercurial, changing his mind from day to day.

Finally, Monroe decided to deal with the professor's changing ideas by just nodding and then continuing with his own plans. He knew it might come back to bite him in the butt later, but firm decisions had to be made, and Professor Mendelsohn didn't seem capable of making any. If they were to wait for him to actually settle on a decision, they'd be late in ordering their seeds and other supplies and would miss the growing season. Monroe wasn't about to let that happen – especially in his senior year – so he just continued with his plan and decided to let the chips fall where they may. Bud, who was to take over once Monroe graduated, was nervous about the whole thing, but Monroe made sure that everything Bud did was under his direction so that no one other than Monroe would get into trouble.

Between being at Mendelsohn's beck and call and trying to finish his thesis as well as pass his final course load, Monroe found himself exhausted. What little free time he had when he was actually conscious was usually spent hiking in the forest where he could just empty his mind and not worry about unreliable professors or classes or his uncertain future.

He'd become pretty good at staying busy, but he hadn't realized how focused he'd become until Hap stopped him on his way out of the door one morning.

He'd paused in shock as Hap thundered down the stairs after him.

"Dude, it is getting close to Earth Day, and we haven't talked about what we're gonna do this year."

"You're awake at six in the morning? How is that possible?"

Hap shrugged. "I got in a little while ago, so I just stayed awake." He yawned. "But this is important. Earth Day!"

Hap wasn't one for making plans – or sticking to them – the one exception being Earth Day. Other than graduation, Earth Day was the most important and celebrated day on campus, easily quadrupling the number of people in town as visitors traveled from miles around to attend. Classes were suspended for the day, and most professors gave those actively participating a free pass the day before so they could focus on their preparations.

They put on concerts at the square, which was bordered by tents featuring a range of things from green cleaning products to flyers on how to make your house greener to how to create and utilize a compost pile in your backyard.

Monroe's group always rented out a spot for their fruit and vegetable stand, to be run entirely by their freshmen. Monroe kept an eye on them as they made their plans, offering a suggestion here and there and making sure that they didn't get overwhelmed, but otherwise, he left them to it. There was also a stand on the side of the road leading into town, which was run by the sophomores.

The juniors were in charge of giving tours of their portion of the farm, the gardens, and their buildings. They also ran a hands-on event for the kids to pot their choice of a few different starter plants to take with them.

The seniors used the day to take whatever volunteers they could find to various spots around town to plant trees. As soon as they returned from January break, they'd begun their search for locations and gathering the necessary permissions. On a predetermined date, they had to lay everything out for Monroe and Mendelsohn, and once they'd received the approval, they only had to give Monroe progress reports once a week and come to him with any questions or problems.

Because he was basically in charge of everything, Monroe wasn't given a special project. However, it was well known that Monroe and Hap always did something special at their house.

For the past ten years, the school had run a contest for the townsfolk to find out who could come up with the best Earth Day Home in town. They weren't given any more instruction than that, and the projects were always quite varied. The winners one year turned their home into an 'Environmental Home of the Future', where people could walk through the different rooms and watch how the waste water was cleaned and recycled; the trash was recycled, reused, and composted; the electricity was generated from solar panels. The owners had gone all-out and raised the bar dramatically. The winners another year had grown all sorts of plants in every available area inside and outside the house, each plant with a story about how it helped the environment.

Monroe and Hap had participated every year they'd lived in the house and had been runners-up the year before. This was the one event where Hap gave all, and Monroe was never more amazed at Hap's focus. But usually they'd have talked about it around the holidays, their plans already underway, only needing final touches toward the last week.

This year the entire thing had been shoved to the back of Monroe's mind. He thought about it every once in a while, in the middle of getting an update from the freshmen or ironing out a disagreement between the sophomores who were fighting about what plants to offer the kids to pot. By the time he'd finished with the different groups, he'd already forgotten about preparing his and Hap's house for the event.

He'd also gotten swept up in personal changes, what with all of the friends Nick had somehow brought into his life. Then there was the recuperation after being shot, dealing with the loss of Nick. Hap had been on his road trips, and by the time he'd returned, Monroe was throwing himself into his work and his final classes. They'd become more like roommates this semester than friends, Monroe suddenly realized. He'd never been a party person, so he'd never gone out with Hap, but they'd always made a point to eat together at least a few times during the week. Hap would come home and spend some time with Monroe before heading out to hang out with his friends. But that was all difficult to do with Monroe never being home.

Monroe sighed. "I'm sorry. I've been so caught up with everything. We don't really have much time. Maybe we shouldn't – "

"No, we have to do something, and it has to be awesome!"

"We have ten days," Monroe said. "The Hendricksons started working on theirs the day after Earth Day last year."

"We can do awesome in ten days!" Hap insisted. "We just have to focus. I won't go to any parties until it's over."

"Wow," Monroe said. He was always impressed at Hap's devotion to Earth Day, but he never realized that it ran so deep. "That's quite a commitment. But I don't have the time. I can carve out some, but I still have to supervise the other classes for their events, and I have Mendelsohn on my back. Plus, Bud's shadowing me so he'll know what to do next year."

Hap sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"I'll help any way I can, but I can't devote all my time to it this year." He just didn't have it in him to come up with something fantastic spur-of-the-moment, draw up some plans, and give Hap detailed instructions to carry them out. "I'm sorry." He patted Hap on the shoulder awkwardly and walked out to his car, his mind already focused on what he needed to do for the rest of the day.

M

Nick was sitting underneath a tree, eating an apple while reviewing his notes for his next class when he felt a body drop beside him.

"You're a hard dude to find!" Hap complained. "I've never really spent time over here, but your campus is actually bigger than I thought. Did you know that a lot of people don't know who you are?"

Nick smiled, picturing Hap's confusion at using Nick's name and only receiving blank glances in return. He doubted that Hap even knew his last name, so Hap was probably walking around asking people if they'd seen "Nick" and expecting a helpful answer. "Not everyone is as popular as you are, Hap."

Hap snorted. "I'm not popular. I just know a lot of people."

Nick bit his tongue and asked, "So why were you looking for me?"

"I need someone smart, and next to Monroe, you're the smartest guy I know."

As soon as he'd seen Hap, Nick should've run. He should've tossed his half-eaten apple in one direction and headed in the other while Hap was distracted. Instead, he took a moment to bask at the thought that he was the second smartest guy Hap knew. Then he thought about the crowd Hap tended to hang around, and his pride deflated a bit. In that short amount of time, he somehow found himself committed to helping Hap coming up with an idea for Earth Day and implementing said idea in ten days.

Unlike GN, JT didn't do much to celebrate Earth Day. Nick figured that they realized that it was much easier to just have a few groups pick up trash around the campus and then have everyone migrate over to GN and participate in their events rather than to come up with their own.

And now that he was helping Hap with his plans, he learned that it was absolutely the smart thing to do.

Celebrating Earth Day GN style was exhausting. Luckily, he had a few friends he could rope into helping. Hank and Rosalee were pretty easy, although as a GN student, she had a few other commitments that day and would help with preparations but could only stop by the house to help on Earth Day in the afternoon. Wu played coy at first, not wanting to commit because of other events that might be more fun, but Hap assured him that he would be free after 5pm. Nick even convinced Juliette to help, and she in turn convinced Renard.

Later that night, over pizza and soda at Hap's (courtesy of Renard, who suddenly became everyone's favorite), they brainstormed, searched the Internet, called friends (Rosalee) and family (Wu), and finally came up with a plan. They each took a few tasks and went on their way.

Nick'd originally thought that Hap was going to be in charge, but as soon as everyone had arrived, they all turned to Nick, waiting expectantly. Even Hap.

But Nick had to give the guy credit. While he wasn't a mastermind, Hap was fantastic at taking orders. He stopped partying, constantly texting Nick with ideas or questions throughout the day. They got together every evening, sometimes just the two of them, to go over more ideas.

The thing was, the plan wasn't that difficult. But Hap kept questioning things, and in turn, it made their plans even better.

The fourth day of planning, Nick and Hap were huddled over a small stack of pillowcases when Monroe stomped inside.

Nick hadn't seen Monroe in weeks, and he'd talked himself into believing that he was finally getting over the Blutbad. But the minute he saw Monroe, he felt all those feelings rushing back.

Monroe nodded at them, exhaustion draped over him like a coat. His hair was disheveled, his eyes tinged with exhaustion. He didn't seem surprised to see Nick, but then Nick remembered that he'd parked right in front of the house.

"How're the plans going?" Monroe asked, his eyes flittering over Nick before resting on Hap.

"It's gonna be awesome! Nick's a fucking genius!" Hap boasted.

Monroe finally made eye contact with Nick. "Thanks for helping him. I know it was last minute."

Nick had to hold himself back from walking over to Monroe and reaching out. Instead, he smiled and said, "We just rallied the troops. Even Renard's helping."

"Really?" Monroe looked impressed. "He's going to get his hands dirty?"

"Hell no," Nick said, laughing. "He's our benefactor. He's paying for almost everything."

"Oh – did Bud give you my message?" Hap asked.

Monroe nodded. "I have some of the plants in my car. He didn't say how many you needed, but I can get more if you want."

Nick nodded to the kitchen. "There should be a couple of slices of cheese pizza in the kitchen if you want some."

Monroe smiled faintly. "Thanks. I'll grab some on my way out."

"You're going back out?" Nick looked at his watch and was surprised to find that it was after ten. He hadn't realized that he and Hap had been at it so long.

Monroe sighed. "Yeah. The freshmen erected their tent on the square wrong, so I had to go help them fix that. The juniors did a run through of their tour of our buildings, and they disagreed about some information about some of the plants. They asked me to come in and tell them who was right. Turns out – "

"Let me guess. They were both wrong."

Monroe nodded. "So, so wrong."

"And you have to go back out to help them with their tour?"

"I'm coming back from that. I have to go back out, because the seniors are way behind."

"So, an all-nighter?"

"Not for me," Monroe declared. "The successful completion of this is part of their major's requirements. I'll stay until I'm sure they're on the right track. Then I'll check on their progress tomorrow." He covered a yawn with his hand. "Sorry."

"Want me to make you some coffee?" Nick asked, already starting to stand.

"Thanks, but I'm good. I've already had three cups tonight."

"This is you after three cups? Man, you're losing your edge."

"I'm getting old is what is happening here, and these underclassmen are speeding up the process."

Nick didn't know how long they stood there, smiling at each other, before Hap coughed, breaking the spell.

"I'd better – " Monroe looked toward the stairs.

"Yeah," Nick said, reluctantly, watching Monroe disappear upstairs. For just a minute it felt like they'd gotten back everything they'd lost.

"I'm gonna go get that leftover pizza. You want a slice?" Hap asked, totally oblivious to the undercurrents in the room.

"I'm good," Nick said, rubbing his hands over his arms, suddenly cold.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Everyone figured they would be greeted on Earth Day with bright sunshine, birds chirping in the trees, and if they were really lucky, a breeze just strong enough to rustle the leaves. But when Nick looked out the window of his apartment that morning, he was unable to see much due to the sheets of rain falling to the ground.

"You think anyone's going to come out?" Hank asked, rubbing a hand over his hair as he stumbled into the kitchen and stopped in front of the empty coffeepot. "What the hell? Who was supposed to set the alarm for the coffee maker?"

Nick shrugged. "You'll have to check the calendar. I'm pretty sure it wasn't me."

Wu stuck his head out of his room. He was about two months behind in cutting his hair, and his bed head was spectacular. "Since no one's coming, can I go back to bed?"

"We're doing this for Hap," Hank reminded him. "And you were in charge of setting the coffee maker last night."

"Oops." Wu's head disappeared back into his room.

Hank snorted.

Nick smiled to himself as he heard Hank pull out the coffee from the freezer.

"Is it just raining, or is there thunder?"

"Just rain. Lots and lots of rain."

"This sucks," Wu said, walking out of his room to stand beside Nick. "Pretty much everything is set for outside today."

"We can move most of our stuff inside," Nick said, mentally running through their plans, "and if fewer people come, we won't have to worry too much about the place being overcrowded." He glanced over at Wu and did a double take when he realized that the other man was covered in nothing but a towel. "What're you doing?"

"I'm going to take a shower."

"Then stop standing there naked and get on with it," Hank said, walking up with a cup in his hands.

"I'm going, " Wu muttered, reaching for the cup.

Hank held the cup above his head. "You don't make the coffee; you don't get to drink the coffee."

Frowning, Wu headed into the bathroom, muttering to himself.

Hank took Wu's place beside Nick and exhaled deeply. "Man, it doesn't look good out there."

"I wouldn't leave the apartment if I didn't have to," Nick admitted.

"It's definitely a stay at home and have a movie marathon kind of day." Hank looked at Nick. "How did we not know about this?"

Nick shrugged. "The weather report said clear skies when I last checked."

"When was that?"

"Yesterday morning."

"Wonder what happened between then and now?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

They stood there, silently staring at the rain while for another couple of minutes until Hank sighed. "Leave in fifteen?"

"Sounds good," Nick said, pushing away the thought that he would love to be cuddled in bed with Monroe right about then.

They made it to Hap's in record time due to the empty streets and dashed into the house, taking off their wet jackets.

"This place looks pretty good," Nick said, looking around. He sniffed the air. "Smells pretty good too."

The floor in front of the door was covered in a thick carpet that seemed to be absorbing the water dripping from their coats quite well. The sofa had been shoved against the wall, and the chair and coffee table were gone, leaving space for two five-foot plastic rectangular folding tables and seven metal folding chairs per table.

"You've already been hard at work and it's not even nine yet," Nick said approvingly.

"Monroe helped me before he left this morning," Hap said, not very enthused.

"Buddy, I know it's raining, but I'm sure some people will come," Nick said, trying to bolster Hap's mood.

"Yeah, it's just that Monroe had me up at, like four, and I couldn't get back to sleep afterwards!" He complained.

Nick shared an amused glance with Hank as Wu commiserated, complaining about the lack of coffee in his morning.

"I can help you with that," Hap said brightly, leading them into the kitchen. "Monroe made some, and it's the good stuff!" He took out three mugs and poured them each a cup. "You know where the milk and sugar are."

Nick and Hank both took theirs black, so they looked around the kitchen while Wu doctored his.

Two round tables surrounded by more folding tables fit comfortably on one side of the kitchen while another long table with buckets underneath ran along the back wall.

"What's that smell?" Wu asked. "It's like muffins or something, but we aren't doing any kind of cooking thing are we?"

"I almost forgot!" Hap opened the oven. "Monroe made muffins for us. There're some blueberry, bran, and chocolate chip. Help yourself."

"Hello!" Juliette called from the living room, and Hap ran to meet her.

"Is Renard coming?" Hank asked, grabbing a blueberry.

"No, he's got something he needs to do to fulfill part of his GN requirement. He said he'd try to stop by later," Nick said, grabbing a chocolate chip muffin with one hand before pulling out the print-outs that he'd placed in one of the drawers with the other.

"So he's a student at both JT and GN? Who does that?" Wu asked, mouth filled with blueberry muffin.

"Someone brilliant and rich," Hank said, taking the papers that Nick had handed him and looking through them.

Nick handed Wu a few papers as well. "So we did our run-throughs, and you know how to handle your tables, but this gives you some reminders and has some information that the parents might want to know."

"You've really stepped up with this," Hank said, admiration in his voice.

A little embarrassed, Nick said, "It really seemed to matter to Hap, and if you want to talk about stepping up…"

"He hasn't been to a party in over a week," Wu said. "But to be honest, pretty much all of the GN-olas have disappeared. I didn't realize how many I've been hanging out with lately until I was the only one left in the room."

"Hey, guys," Juliette said. "Hap mentioned coffee and muffins?"

After handing Juliette her packet for her table, Nick left her to grab some food while he joined Hap in the living room.

"So I have our sign, but I wasn't sure where to put it, since it was supposed to go outside," Hap said, totally energized.

Nick could tell he was nervous and put a comforting hand on Hap's shoulder. "Relax. You've done a fantastic job." As he felt Hap's shoulder relax, Nick looked around the living room. "Why don't we hang it against this back wall?" He called in Hank, who came up with some options and immediately had Hap on the stairs helping to attach one side.

Nick nodded, watching the rain pouring outside, no sign of letting up. It wasn't what they'd planned, but it was going to work out, provided anyone showed up.

People showed up. At first it was just one or two families with one or two kids, but then word must've gotten around, because suddenly they had more people than Nick thought was probably legal in a house that small. The noise level was at an all-time high, although it was mostly excited, high-pitched ones, so Nick figured it was a win.

Wu and Juliette were in charge of the Nature Terrariums at the table in the living room. Wu helped them start with the pebbles, soil, and earthworms and then Juliette took over with the sticks and plants Monroe had given them.

Hank reigned over the bottling your own beverage section using the long table in the kitchen with the buckets. With glass bottles they'd collected from recycle bins all over town that they'd then boiled clean, they'd lain out a spread of water, two separate teas (mint and green), and apple juice. Monroe had brought them fresh mint leaves, and Wu's parents had donated strawberries and lemons, which they'd cut and sliced.

Hap was in his element helping people make pinecone birdfeeders with peanut butter and seeds on the two round tables in the kitchen. Turned out, he was a champion at tying the natural yarn to the pinecones and wrapping them in foil for safe transport home.

Nick had planned on running the sun print display with his bag of leaves, baking trays, and sunprint fabric (by far the most expensive item Renard had purchased), but it was hard getting a sun print without the sun.

Instead, he'd become what Hank and Wu had decided to call the cruise director, handing out pamphlets and flyers about recycling, telling people about the different crafts, even directing a few parents with young ones to the bathroom that Juliette had made sure was appropriate for strangers to enter.

Hap'd told Nick that the judging committee consisted of two men and a woman, and it was easy for him to recognize them, since they were the only adults who came without children. Without fawning too much, Nick made sure to bring out the presentation skills he'd learned in a Toastmasters class his freshman year and escorted them to Wu and Juliette's setup. He caught Wu's eye and received a slight nod in recognition.

Rosalee had arrived around one that afternoon, bearing sandwiches, chips, and more milk for the coffee. They rotated shifts on the tables as each one took some time and sat on the stairs, eating and taking a break.

As Nick handed a smiling kid his foil-wrapped birdfeeder and nodded as his mom thanked him, he heard Rosalee saying, "You're welcome. I am glad you had fun," and realized that he was having a good time, too.

The rain aside, Nick felt like the day had turned out to be an unmitigated success.

M

Monroe was exhausted. Thanks to Hurricane Justin's determination to survive and move in unexpected directions, causing it to hit a cold front, they'd been surprised with torrential rain, which of course had everyone in a tailspin.

The freshmen and sophomores' fruit stands were water resistant, not waterproof, and they certainly weren't made to handle the rain that blew almost horizontally when the wind picked up. No one wanted to take – or even lead – tours around a farm in this weather, so the juniors were panicked. And the senior's tree-planting schedule was absolutely pointless.

Monroe had just been coming home around one in the morning the previous night, his mind going over last minute details, when he'd felt something splatter on his cheek. Absently wiping at his face, he'd taken another couple of steps before another raindrop hit him. Another few steps, and he stopped, looking up at the dark sky. "No," he whispered. He'd checked all of the weather reports frequently, and none of them predicted anything other than a fantastic day. He'd run into the house and immediately gone online, where – surprise! – everyone was stunned to realize that it was going to rain and rain hard in Virginia for Earth Day, the Earth Day where Monroe would be in charge and needed it to go well in order to graduate. Terrific.

After allowing himself two minutes of self-pity, he went downstairs to bond with the coffee machine and began to plan, making muffins as his mind worked through the problems.

At four, he woke up Hap. A few days before in a rare free moment, he'd stood over the stove, eating spaghetti straight from the skillet as Hap told him about their plans for the house. Because if the rain, he knew that Hap was going to need to adjust his plans a bit. He helped set up some tables and chairs, made sure Hap was panicking as little as possible, and left to try to salvage the rest of Earth Day for his groups.

He spent a couple of hours in the office at the farm, first calling Bud, who'd ended up spending all night in the hospital with his sick daughter and because of that wouldn't be able to help at all. Then he hopped on the computer to update their information – and Hap's – on all of the websites advertising Earth Day activities before heading to the square with the farm's truck. After installing the freshmen in the foyer of the library, taking about a quarter of their food and arming them with posterboard, markers, tape, and plastic, he met with the sophomores and set them up inside Farmer Hoyt's barn, right down the road from where they'd planned to set up. He took a quarter of _their_ food as well and grabbed more sign supplies and handed them off before leaving to meet with the seniors. They all followed him back to the farm, where they began to call all of the contacts who'd agreed to have them plant on their property and get them to postpone until the following Saturday. He also put them to work storing all of the supplies they'd planned on using and then had half of them help the juniors focus on activities they could do inside the barn with anyone who might chance the rain. He grabbed as many large umbrellas that he could find for those adventurous enough to still want the tour – which turned out to be more than he expected. He took the other seniors and had them pull out part of the vegetable and fruit stand they used in the summers and load it up with the food he'd taken from the underclassmen. He snagged one senior with a concentration in some sort of computer science and put her on the computer to create and print some flyers about the change in tree planting date until Saturday. He answered her complaints about outdated equipment with a hearty, "thanks so much, Janine!" and left her to it.

By eleven, they had a steady stream of people in the barn, everyone having a good time, and the produce stand was almost empty. He called Hap to check in and headed out to check on the freshmen and sophomores. The freshmen hadn't sold much, so he packed them up and sent them out to the farm to help out. While not extremely busy, the sophomores were doing well enough that he let them stay and continue selling their produce. Farmer Hoyt's kids had joined them, and they had a small craft table set up that seemed to be creating a lot of laughter.

He stepped out of the truck at the farm and got a little dizzy, but it faded after a moment, and he reminded himself to grab some water when he got a chance.

He'd had to work a little magic over the phone with a few people who decided they didn't want tree plantings on their properties on Saturday, but by the time he'd hung up with the last person, he was able to say that they still had one hundred percent participation.

He worked in a second phone call to Hap around five, and Rosalee picked up the phone, telling him that things were starting to wind down and that they were getting ready to close up shop. She mentioned that they were starving, so he offered to bring something home for everyone as long as they could wait for about another two hours. Wu snagged the phone, saying that they'd have to resort to sucking the juice out of the few lemons left but that they'd try to survive.

Monroe partnered each senior with an underclassman to shut down and clean up while he hopped into the truck and picked up everything from the Hoyt's farm to bring back to the barn. He unloaded, calling the local pizza place to order some pies for pickup before helping with the final bit of cleanup, and after a resounding thank you to everyone, he let them go and shut down.

He picked up the pizzas and drove home slowly, the rainwater not being absorbed by the earth now filling up the streets. At a couple of the lights he found himself fighting to stay awake, so he turned the air conditioner on full blast for the rest of the ride home.

After pulling into the driveway, he grabbed the pizzas and ran for the door, which opened right as he stepped up to it.

"Thanks," he said to Hank as Wu took the pizzas, allowing him to wipe the rain out of his eyes. He smelled Nick immediately, closing his eyes for a moment to feel it throughout the rest of his body, giving him a little more energy.

A cheer from the kitchen made Hank laugh. "Thanks for the food," he said, eyeballing Monroe. "Man, you look exhausted."

Monroe gave him a wan smile. "It's been a busy couple of weeks."

Clapping Monroe on the shoulder, Hank led him further into the room. "Now it's over, so you can relax a little, eat some pizza."

Monroe's stomach gave a little twist at the idea of eating anything and realized that he hadn't had anything besides coffee all day. He figured he probably should eat something, but just not pizza. He remembered the soup he'd bought the other day and waited for his stomach to chime in. When it remained silent, he figured that it was the perfect call. And then he would go to bed and sleep for the next three days.

He followed Hank into the kitchen.

"Thanks for the pizza!" Hap said, mouth filled with food.

Monroe winced, too tired to say anything.

"You want a piece?" Rosalee asked, tilting the box toward him.

His stomach gave another protest to make sure he remembered that it wanted the soup and definitely not the pizza. "No thanks," he said, opening up the refrigerator. He paused, trying to remember where he'd left the soup, shifting a few things around to make sure he wasn't missing it.

"What're you looking for?" Hap asked.

"My soup," Monroe said.

"Oh."

Monroe knew that tone, and he slowly stood up as he closed the door. He must've stood too quickly, because he had to put out a hand to the refrigerator to keep his balance.

"You okay?" Nick asked, and Monroe tried not to be warmed by the concern in Nick's voice.

"Yeah, just tired." He looked at Hap, who looked as guilty as he had sounded. "So, you ate the soup?"

"Yeah, a few hours ago. I'm sorry, man. I was just totally hungry."

"It's fine," Monroe said, wanting to cry a little bit, which told him that he really needed to get some rest. "I'm gonna head up, get some sleep." Absently, he heard the phone ring but turned around and headed for the stairs.

"Monroe!" One foot on the stairs, Monroe looked longingly up at in the direction of his bedroom. Rosalee appeared beside him, cordless phone in her hand. "It's for you." She smiled sympathetically as she gave him the phone and walked back into the kitchen.

"Hello," Monroe said, turning to sit on the stairs.

"How did the Earth Day celebration go?" Professor Mendelsohn asked.

If he'd had the energy, he would've rolled his eyes. Instead of remaining on campus in case they'd needed him, Mendelsohn was currently vacationing in Hawaii with his third wife, one of his students who'd graduated the year before. It wasn't as though the date for Earth Day changed every year, or that they'd suddenly decided to celebrate it, so Mendelsohn had intentionally booked his time away during the most important festival on campus. "It went pretty well, all things considered."

"What things?" Mendelsohn said, alarmed.

"Things like the weather."

"The forecast was for a perfect day. What happened?"

"It rained," Monroe said simply. He was too tired to play Mendelsohn's games. All he needed was a few hours, and he could return to tamping down his sarcastic comments and reminding himself that he was out of here in just a couple of months.

"How bad was it?" Mendelsohn asked. "The Dean's going to be expecting a report from me."

"We made do. I'm going to sleep now." He hung up as he heard Mendelsohn yell, "Wait!"

"That your boss?" Nick asked, leaning against the wall.

Monroe blinked at him, wondering how he'd completely missed Nick's walking up to him. "Advisor. He's in Hawaii."

"Wait. Isn't this the biggest event of the year for GN?"

"Yep," Monroe said, trying to find the energy to stand up. Instead, he tilted so his head leaned against the wall.

"Why's he in Hawaii instead of here?"

"You'll have to ask him that," Monroe said, holding back a yawn.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he felt a warm, hand on his head, and Nick's whispered, "You need to go to sleep."

" 'm sleepin' right here," Monroe muttered.

"Upstairs, in your bed," Nick said.

"Too far." He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of Nick running his fingers through Monroe's hair. If he refused to open his eyes, he could pretend that he and Nick were still together, that they'd get up and fall into bed together. He knew that it wasn't going to ever happen again, but it was so much nicer to pretend.

"When was the last time you ate something?"

"Too much work to think."

"It was so long ago that you have to think that hard?"

Monroe sighed and tried to think. "I had something yesterday."

Nick heaved a sigh of his own and sat down beside Monroe, adjusting his hand but still playing with Monroe's hair. "Did you have dinner yesterday?"

"Um." It was hard to think with Nick warming his side.

"What about lunch?"

He had something for lunch yesterday… didn't he? He couldn't remember.

"Okay. Breakfast?"

"Cereal!" Monroe perked up a bit at actually remembering something. "I had cereal."

"Dude, I knocked over your bowl before you even started it," Hap said as he grabbed something from the living room and returned to the kitchen.

"I'm going to get you a piece of pizza," Nick declared, standing up.

Monroe's stomach couldn't stand the thought of dealing with pizza, and Monroe couldn't stand the thought of Nick being so far away. He grabbed Nick's arm and held him still. "No pizza."

"You need to eat something," Nick protested, and Monroe felt reality returning.

Nick was not his to have, not anymore. He let go. "I'll eat something when I wake up." He heaved himself to his feet and rode through the brief wave of dizziness before walking slowly down the hall and falling across his bed.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Nick had never seen Monroe looking so defeated. People who'd stopped off at the farm and the produce stand on the way into town'd had nothing but good things to say, so he'd expected Monroe to walk through the door triumphant. Instead Monroe's eyes were dim, his shoulders slumped.

He had been chewing on a slice of pizza when Monroe had made his appearance in the kitchen, and what he had seen had stolen his appetite. He'd noticed Monroe's dizzy spell and shuffle into the living room once he'd learned that Hap had eaten his soup.

"He looks terrible," Wu said.

Nick looked at Hap. "How much sleep has he been getting?"

Hap shrugged. "I don't know, man. He's almost never home. It sucks being here alone all the time. I don't know how he does it when I'm out."

"He likes being alone," Rosalee said, walking back into the room. "Or at least he says he does."

"Who was on the phone?" Wu asked.

"It's none of our business," Hank told him.

"You're absolutely right," Wu agreed, "but seriously, who was on the phone?"

"I think it was Professor Mendelsohn, Monroe's advisor," Rosalee said.

Nick finished his pizza and stood up. He ignored Hank's knowing smirk and walked into the living room, leaning against the wall watching Monroe try to put words together in a way that made sense.

The man was pretty close to the end of his endurance, and all Nick wanted to do was take care of him. It'd been three months, and he still missed Monroe like they'd just broken up the day before. He couldn't stop himself from walking up to his ex-boyfriend and running his fingers through Monroe's hair and slowly sitting on the stairs, although he did manage to keep from leaning against Monroe and enjoying his warmth.

It was obvious that Monroe didn't notice Nick shadowing him as he bumped against the wall on the way up the stairs, using a hand to balance as he tottered down the hallway. He eventually fell onto his bed, asleep as soon as he hit the blankets.

Nick pulled off Monroe's shoes, noting the wet socks and damp bottoms of Monroe's pants. He was peeling off Monroe's second sock when Monroe rolled over to his back, muttering, "Nick".

Nick froze. Was Monroe dreaming of him even now, or was it simply that Nick had been the last person Monroe had seen before going to bed? Nick shook his head. Just because he wasn't over Monroe didn't mean that Monroe felt the same way. After a short debate with himself, Nick climbed on the bed and unfastened Monroe's belt. It was a bit of a fight, but he finally managed to pull the belt free and knelt there a few seconds longer to catch his breath.

He looked down at Monroe, remembering the mornings he would wake first and just stare at him, knowing it was probably a little creepy but unable to help himself. Those times, Monroe looked a little gruff when he opened his eyes, but he always greeted Nick with the hint of one of his goofy smiles. Right now, though, Monroe just looked tired. Lines crossed his forehead; his lips sloped downward.

Nick's fingertips were already caressing Monroe's face before he was aware his hand had moved.

"Nick," Monroe sighed again, and this time Nick gave in, settling himself on the bed, his head on Monroe's shoulder. By his second breath, he too was asleep.

M

Monroe awoke, feeling more rested than he had since before he got shot. He didn't remember moving on the bed so his head actually rested against the pillows, but truth be told, he didn't remember anything after falling onto the bed and only bits and pieces after getting into the car with the pizzas.

He laid there, ignoring the feeling that he needed to be attending to something. Earth Day had come and gone, and while he still needed to work with the seniors on the tree planting, the stress was now over. It was nice to feel lazy for once.

He heard a knock and looked up to see Nick poke his head around the open door. "You awake?"

"You say that like you've asked before," Monroe said, thinking back furiously to figure out if he and Nick'd had the kind of heart to heart that would make them more comfortable with each other than they'd been for the last few months.

"You've been asleep for about fourteen hours."

"Seriously?" Monroe was horrified. He pushed himself up.

"Stay there," Nick said, and his head disappeared.

Monroe blinked, confused for a second, before swinging his legs over the bed.

"Stay in bed!" Nick shouted up the stairs. "I mean it!"

Monroe wasn't about to yell back that he had to go to the bathroom, so he quickly ran down the hall, relieved himself, washed his hands, and ran back into the bedroom just as he heard Nick's footsteps on the stairs.

Nick backed into the room, revealing a tray filled with food.

"What's this?" Monroe asked.

"If Mohammed won't come to the mountain…"

Monroe was confused. "What is exactly is the mountain in this case?"

"Food. Sit up."

Monroe sat up, resting his back against the wall. "I could have just come downstairs."

"Nope. You've been working hard for the last couple of weeks. You deserve to relax a bit." Nick carefully put the tray over Monroe's lap.

He knew it was probably creepy, but Monroe inhaled subtly as Nick bent in front of him, smelling his shower gel mixed with Nick's inherent scent, instantly settling a primal need, like two pieces slotting together, clicking perfectly.

"It's nothing too fancy, since you're the cook in the house," Nick said.

Monroe looked down at the scrambled eggs, toast, strawberries, coffee, and orange juice and felt a warmth in his chest. He'd never had anyone serve him… anything in bed before. The possibility had never even entered his mind.

"Is it okay?" Nick's hesitant voice caught Monroe's attention, and he looked up to find Nick biting the side of his lip.

"It looks terrific but way more than I can eat. How many forks are on here?"

Nick grinned. "I'll be right back."

While Nick was gone, Monroe slid over to make space – but he made sure it was just enough for Nick to fit.

Nick walked into the room, slightly breathless, Monroe was pleased to note. He cocked an eyebrow at the space before slipping onto the bed.

Monroe separated the food so they had a piece of toast and eggs on both the plate and the saucer that had held the toast. He slid the bowl of strawberries between them.

"You keep the plate," Nick said, reaching for the saucer.

Monroe held the saucer aloft. "You did the work."

"But I did it for you." Nick insisted, leaning against Monroe to try to reach it.

Monroe enjoyed the feel of Nick's pressing against him immensely and put the saucer further out of reach. He turned to tease Nick but found Nick's face closer than Monroe had expected, and the words died on his lips. Suddenly all he could hear was his own heartbeat as he stared into Nick's eyes, all of the want he hadn't let himself feel for the last few months rising up inside him. He only needed to lean in slightly to take Nick's mouth.

And it was glorious. It was coming home and finding something new and opening up the best present ever all at once. He heard a groan, wasn't sure whose it was and didn't much care as Nick kissed him back, his lips firm, his mouth welcoming.

All Monroe could think was that he wanted more, he needed more right now, and he reached to pull Nick closer.

M

Monroe's forgotten eggs and toast sliding off the saucer in Monroe's hand and onto Nick's back quickly returned him to reality. He jerked back, staring at Monroe, who sat there looking at him, the passion turning into apprehension. "I shouldn't have kissed you. "

Nick looked down for a second, thinking rapidly. He was sitting on Monroe's bed, pressing against the other man. He'd slept the night before against Monroe, waking up with his head on Monroe's chest, Monroe's arms around him like they'd slept almost every night when they'd been dating. Was it really a surprise that they'd kissed?

Suddenly Nick felt guilty. "No, I'm sorry. I think in the back of my mind I knew that this was going to happen. I need to tell you that after you fell asleep, I kind of… went to sleep beside you." He wasn't sure what to expect. He knew what he deserved.

"You slept with me last night?"

"Well, for about nine of the fourteen hours," Nick conceded. "I know it was without your permission, but – "

"You always have my permission." Monroe said. "But you know what I am. One day, you're going to be a Grimm, and all you'll see is Blutbad."

"So what?" Nick countered. "I'm in love with who you are, not _what_ you are. But your family won't ever accept a Grimm in your life."

Monroe lifted an eyebrow. "I love my parents, but I need to live my life. If they can't accept you, then I guess we won't have to worry about their coming without calling first anymore." He started to look uncertain. "Your Aunt Marie – "

"My Aunt Marie has learned that just like humans, Wesen are all different. While we were together, she realized that most of the ones we met just wanted to live and be happy. There were some who were hurting others, and we couldn't let them go."

Monroe nodded.

"I love her, but she can't tell me who to love. I think she knows that now."

"You talked her? About us?" Monroe asked, horrified.

Nick smiled. "We have a way of understanding each other without really talking much."

Monroe looked confused. "So should I invest in a bulletproof vest in case we run into each other?

Laughing, Nick pushed against Monroe with his shoulder. "She won't shoot you again."

"Promise?"

"If she pulls out her gun, she'll have to shoot me first." Nick leaned in slowly, giving Monroe a chance to say no, until he pressed his lips gently against Monroe's.

He loved the passion Monroe brought out in him, but he also loved the slow, soft kisses they shared. Nick wasn't sure which ones he liked best, but he knew he'd missed it all. He leaned forward, pressing Monroe deeper into the bed, and he felt cold and wet slide further down his back. Pausing, his lips still against Monroe's, he whispered, "You do know that you dropped your eggs down my back, right?"

Monroe winced. "Maybe?"

Nick leaned back, pulling off his t-shirt and gathering the toast and as much egg as he could into the material. He turned back to Monroe to find that the tray had disappeared. "Where – "

"On the floor," Monroe said, taking the shirt and also dropped it on the floor, heedless of the mess. He turned back to Nick, reaching around to pull him close.

Nick welcomed the contact. "You can tell me the truth. You poured those eggs down my back just so I'd take off my shirt."

Monroe wiggled his eyebrows. "It's been a long time since I've seen so much skin."

Nick pulled back to look into Monroe's eyes. "So, we're really going to do this?"

Monroe stared back. "Do you want to?"

"I do."

A slow smile slowly crept across Monroe's face. "Me too."

It was another hour before Monroe finally ate some food.


	13. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

EIGHT YEARS LATER

"Sorry I'm late," Nick said, wrapping his arms around Monroe and nuzzling his neck.

Monroe turned his head and pulled Nick in a deep kiss.

Finally, stepping back, Nick grinned at his partner. "What was that?"

"What?" Monroe smiled as he turned back to his green pepper.

"That wasn't your normal hello kiss."

"Is that a complaint?"

"Absolutely not," Nick said. "In fact, you can do that anytime you want." He stole a slice of pepper, dodging Monroe's block. "I'm going to shower and change, and I'll be back to help you."

"You're not allowed to help for your own party!" Monroe called as Nick walked up the stairs.

Nick shucked his clothes and kicked them over toward the door, turning on the water and stepping in the shower. The hot water felt wonderful as it massaged the chill from his skin. He loved Portland, but he was still getting used to all the rainfall again. He soaped up, careful around the healing bruises around his left side. The ribs were still a little sore, but they were much better than they'd been a few days ago after he, Hank, and Monroe had taken on a particularly cantankerous Dämonfeuer.

It had been a busy week. Quite a few of his friends had made the ceremony promoting Nick to detective on Monday morning – Juliette was held up with an emergency surgery on a dog who'd been hit by car, and Rosalee had taken her students on a trip to the museum. Wu was scheduled to work, but he'd managed a drive by on his way to a crime scene, flashing his lights as he drove past the small crowd standing outside of City Hall. Tuesday had been his first full day as a detective, filled with paperwork and getting familiar with his new position. He already knew all of the other detectives, but it was different now that he was no longer a uniformed officer. They'd made it clear that as the junior detective, he needed to be prepared for the grunt work, so that hadn't been a surprise either. He liked Detective Halloran and knew the older man would train him well. Besides, he also had Hank, who was too new of a detective himself to be able to partner up with Nick, but at least they were working together in the same precinct.

He'd gotten a call on Wednesday afternoon about some suspicious fires around town that had Wesen written all over them, and he and Hank had met Monroe at the trailer to gear up after work. They'd ended up subduing the Dämonfeuer with only a few minor injuries – Nick's bruised ribs, Hank's black eye, Monroe's bruised shoulder. Thursday Nick got his first case as a detective, but thankfully he and Halloran had managed to put it to bed after an exhausting day that didn't end until three in the morning. He'd dragged himself back in to work after four hours sleep so he could dot the i's and cross the t's and finish before the celebration Monroe had set up in his honor for Friday night.

He toweled himself off, scooping up his clothes and walked into the bedroom, smiling at the freshly pressed jeans and button down shirt Monroe had lain across their bed. Monroe knew him well, he thought, looking down at the jeans and shirt he'd planned on putting back on. He tossed them toward the hamper in the corner and started getting ready.

M

Monroe finished putting the final touches on dessert and looked around at the food covering the table Nick had surprised him with the past Christmas. Nick and Hap had kept the pieces of the table his parents had had made for him all of those years ago until Nick had been able to afford to have it repaired by someone who knew what she was doing. Nick had called Monroe's parents – he'd had to go to extreme lengths to get the number, since Monroe had promised them that he wouldn't give Nick any way to find them – and had somehow brokered a stalemate, so they'd been at the house when Nick had given Monroe the table. It had been the best Christmas ever.

Bringing his mind back to the present, he checked to make sure that he had all of Nick's favorite foods represented. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed when he recognized Hap's scent.

"Hey!" Hap yelled as he walked through the door. He stuck his head into the kitchen. "Am I the first one here?"

"Yep," Monroe said. He grabbed a small pile of plates and held them out. "Take these out to the living room."

"I'm a guest now; aren't you supposed to be serving me?" Hap complained as he took the plates.

"Guests knock," Monroe said, putting some forks on top of the plates. "Besides, you've only been gone a week. This time."

"It's not my fault Danica kicked me out," Hap said petulantly.

Monroe remained silent but pulled a beer out of the refrigerator, waving it at Hap. "Put those on the table in the living room, and come back for this."

Hap's eyes lit up, and he disappeared.

Monroe felt a little bad for Hap, but his friend tended to bring it on himself. Since he'd broken up with Lenore a few months after the two of them had graduated, Hap had been choosing the same kinds of women, ones who wanted someone to make them a home so they could take it away. Hap still hadn't clued into that yet. Nick and Rosalee were all for sitting him down for tough love; Hank wanted to let Wu take care of it. Monroe wasn't sure. He'd known Hap the longest, but he also knew that underneath all of his goofiness, Hap wanted someone who loved him and whose idea of a good evening out involved beers at the local bar. Just because Monroe had lucked out with finding Nick in college didn't mean he was an expert on relationships.

Rosalee arrived a few minutes later, taking a glass of juice over ice, blaming the baby she was carrying. She came over so much that she was more family than guest as well, so Monroe didn't feel like he was neglecting his duty as a host by not moving them out into the living room. Besides, the freshly squeezed organic orange juice he always kept in stock for her was easier to refill while they were still so close to the refrigerator.

Nick joined them during Hap's second beer, looking especially good in the clothes Monroe had lain out for him. Normally, Monroe left Nick to clothe himself, but he knew that Nick would've just put back on what he'd been wearing earlier. As the man of the hour, he needed to look a little better. So Monroe helped.

"Looking sharp, Detective," Rosalee said.

Nick gave Monroe a sidelong glance, and Monroe returned it with an I-knew-you'd-look-good-in-that look of his own as he handed Nick a beer.

"Thanks," Nick said. "Monroe picked it out."

Rosalee laughed. "Of course he did."

The doorbell rang, announcing the first of the guests arrive. Juliette and her fiancé Renard made a brief appearance before they had to leave for some business event of Renard's – no one still knew what he did for a living, but no one was going to ask him about it either, not even Wu. Wu came in after his shift, complaining that a uniform cop's job was never done. Hank arrived right after him, using the same complaint for a detective's job. Hank gave Rosalee a kiss, accepting the beer she held for him.

Monroe liked to see Hank and Rosalee together, their easy affection making him happy. After a breakup that'd lasted about six months, they'd realized they were happier together rather than apart. And then Hank had learned about Wesen during a particularly bloody and emotionally stressful case when he and Nick were still in uniform. He'd refused to let Rosalee go after he learned about her, saying that she looked soft and fuzzy when she woged. They'd been married a little over a year, and Rosalee confessed to Monroe and Nick that Hank had nicknamed the unborn child Super Baby after Baby Natasha on "Sesame Street". Monroe had found it mildly insulting on Rosalee's behalf, especially after he'd seen a picture of the character, but she'd seemed to find it endearing, explaining that it came from a place of love.

Nick had hip checked him, wordlessly reminding him of how Nick loved teasing Monroe with big bad wolf jokes. Monroe tended to glare at Nick those times, but it really didn't bother him. He just rolled his eyes and remained silent.

As the hour grew later, a quite a few police officers arrived, some with their spouses and significant others, as well as a couple of friends from college who lived in the area and a few of the neighbors.

Monroe had planned for a large group of people – especially Wu and Hap – and spent quite a bit of the evening refilling the serving dishes when he wasn't making the rounds with beer, wine, water, and fruit juice. He'd finished pouring a white wine when he felt an important absence. He left the half-empty bottle on the counter in the kitchen and headed out into the backyard, finding the person he missed leaning against the railing.

He leaned against it himself, staring out into the backyard, enjoying the quiet surrounding them while listening to the hum of the conversations and occasional laughter inside the house.

"Thanks," Nick said, finally breaking the silence.

Monroe shrugged. "All I had to do was tell Wu and Hap about it, and the news just traveled naturally." He chuckled. "Just like in college."

Nick chuckled too, then sobered. "That's not what I meant." He tilted his head. "Well, thank you for the party, but I meant thank you for everything."

Monroe frowned. "I don't know what you mean."

"Thank you for waiting for me to finish school, thank you for moving to Portland for me, for supporting me when I thought I could be a Grimm and a cop even when Aunt Marie said it was impossible." He shrugged a shoulder and turned to face Monroe, everything he was feeling welling up in his eyes. "Thanks for loving me."

Just when he thought he couldn't love his boyfriend any more, Nick would surprise him. Monroe gave him a helpless smile. "I didn't have a choice."

Nick reached up, grabbing Monroe's neck to pull him down for a kiss. By the time they came up for air, Monroe'd almost forgotten what they were talking about. He pulled Nick into a loose hug, resting his chin on top of Nick's head. After a few seconds, he said, "You're missing her."

Nick sighed. "It would've been nice to have her there, at the ceremony."

"Even though she didn't think you could handle being a Grimm and cop?"

"Yeah. I probably would've won her over; I always could."

Monroe chuckled. "You managed to get her in a room with me without her shooting me, so I'm going to have to agree with you." He felt Nick's body shake as he laughed into Monroe.

Yeah, thought Monroe, this right here, the feel of Nick's arms wrapped around him, Nick's breath warm against his skin. This was what forever felt like.

The End

A/N:The final installment. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments and constructive criticism are welcome, no matter when you read this. I hope, if you have time, that you drop me a line and let me know what you think.


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